


Where You Lead

by Goofychik



Category: Righteous Bloodlines, Supernatural
Genre: Athens, Books, College, Dog - Freeform, F/M, Library, Mental Illness, Mr. Hyde - Freeform, Ohio, Psychic, Serial Killer, Suicide, Telepath, Warlock - Freeform, Witch - Freeform, dr. jekyll - Freeform, haunted, psychiatric hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5212601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goofychik/pseuds/Goofychik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More Soul Sisters Roxi and Stella, Aunt Jayna with the Winchester brothers, & Castiel take on one of the most haunted places in the US - Athens, Ohio - former Athens Lunatic Asylum. But its not ghosts they're hunting. Dean isn't even sure its "one of their types of things".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Roxi and Stella DeLuci & Jayna are characters from a new up and coming book series, "Righteous Bloodline"  
> Roxi is the younger sister, kick ass martial artist.  
> Stella is older, only by a year or two, is an expert marksman, with firearms & archery.  
> Jayna Avalon is their psychic aunt. Telepath.  
> This is an installment of an ongoing series that I write for real life sisters who love SPN.  
> There is light suggestive flirting between multiple characters

Chapter 1  
Jayna walked through the doorway, did not look up from her path, not once. There was a cabinet in the back of the dining room. She opened the oak doors to the alcohol cabinet, grabbing the heaviest bottle first. She winced as she considered slugging it straight from the bottle; shook her head, poured herself a respectful shot; swallowed it with seasoned ease, and poured herself another before looking up to her audience. Dean Winchester looked at her with a mixture of surprise and respect. Sam, however, creased his forehead deeply, his mouth a straight line of concern. 

Dean spoke first, “Bad day?” he would have normally included a barb at her vocation, but he decided against it, considering the intensity that she looked at her second shot of whiskey. 

“You have no idea.” she whispered, pouring herself a third. Jayna was a psychic. A fairly good one, with telepathy being her most utilized strength. She could read minds with the best of them, but the Winchesters - they were her special soft spot. Winchester Radio she called it, and it was always tuned in loud and clear. 

Sam jumped up from the couch, away from his laptop, “whoa there sunshine…” he started. Jayna glared at him almost threateningly. 

She took one step away from the bottle, whispered, “Cancer. The person had cancer. wanted to know ……” her voice crackled, tears sprung to her eyes. Sam wrapped his hand around the cap of her shoulder. She shook her head, the tears spilling onto her cheeks freely, telling the rest of the story in one sorrowful, pitying glance. Pulling her to him, he enfolded her body in his, letting her tears soak his shirt. 

Finally Dean interrupted, “You told them that they were going to die?” his voice slightly accusatory. He didn’t like her career choice. Didn’t trust it. Sure, he had used psychics in his line of work before. All hunters did. But he knew that alot of it was snake oil bullshit, and he had a low tolerance for that.. Also he would be lying if he didn’t admit that Jayna’s ability to read minds creeped him out. He wanted his thoughts to himself. 

Sam glared at his brother, caressing Jayna’s back soothingly. Jayna pulled herself away, wiping her tears angrily from her cheeks, “I suppose you think I should have lied?” she asked, Dean shrugged but before he could reply she continued, “I …” she tried to steel her voice, but it just felt so weak in her throat, “I told her that she had an intense fight ahead of her. And that she needed to stay strong for her family, and that she would be surrounded by her loved ones.” Sam refused to let go of her completely, keeping his arm around her protectively as she answered his brother’s accusations. “She knew already.” Jayna winced at the words, “She was looking for - reaching out for some sort of hope.” Jayna sniveled again, glancing up at Sam, his eyes offering her only love and concern, bringing the tears back, “...and I couldn’t give her that.” Sam pulled his hand through the side of her hair, pushing it from her face. He felt helpless. He wanted to be able to help her to soothe her, but he did not know how. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss the tears away. She would like that. It would make her feel better. She read these thoughts from him, and held her hand up to his chest as if to ward him away.

Dean cleared his throat. Demons, ghosts, shape shifters, vampires - these things he knew. Cancer was a different kind of beast all together, and no incantation or silver blade was useful in the fight. Life had its own kind of monsters. Jayna didn’t normally read Dean’s mind (she chose to block it out, knowing how he felt about it), but she heard this rumination as clear as day. And it comforted her. He nodded, and joined the two at the liquor cabinet. He poured himself and Sam a shot. The trio raised their glasses in a silent salute.

_________________ 

Their glasses empty, Sam took charge, “Why don’t you…. (He hesitated), Take a nice long hot bath? Dean will take the girls out for dinner. and you just … chill.” He squeezed the back of her neck gently between his fingers, urging her eyes up to his. “I can …” he stopped, something about saying the words, ‘run you a bath’ sounded odd on his lips, kind of cliche, and harlequin novel-ish; but in his head he envisioned exactly that: Dimmed lights, candles, soft music, her hair up in a bun, a few strands clinging to her cheeks, bubbles up to her chin. Sam waiting outside the door, reading a book, sentinel against any disturbance or perhaps waiting to help scrub her back. He pushed back the last image forcefully, embarrassed. Jayna of course saw it all, but merely nodded, and allowed him to lead her to her the bathroom as he cast an instructing glance to his brother who agreed helpfully. 

“Don’t let her fall asleep, “ Dean called up after them, eyeing the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, calculating how much Jayna had actually consumed, “We don’t need her to go all Whitney Houston on us.” He could feel Sam’s daggers at his back, “too soon?” he questioned to himself, then shrugged, not caring either way. 

Roxi came home just as Sam was ushering Jayna in the bathroom; Jayna wrapped in a bathrobe, the flickering shadows from the candles on the hallway walls. She grimaced sardonically, “They really should just do it and get it over with.” 

Dean rolled his eyes in agreement, but more interested in the piece of pie he had just warmed up for himself. There were still a couple hours before dinner time, and he was hungry. The last piece of apple pie would do perfectly. Roxi leaned her butt on the dining room table, almost beside the apple pie. Dean glanced at the pie longingly, as Roxi dipped her finger in the dripping goo of the filling.

“Listen, Dean.” She said seriously, as she brought her finger to her mouth, licking the sweetness. Dean took a very long, deep breath in, trying not to growl, Roxi continued, “You need to look at Stella’s car.” 

Feeling the turn of the conversation to something he was all business about, the cars; he pulled his pie closer to him, took a bite, and said mid chew, “What did you do?”

Roxi erupted with a defensive semi-squeal, “I . didn’t. do. anything.” she enunciated every word for effectiveness. “I. actually.” she swayed a little as she walked to get herself a glass of water, somewhat dramatically, “took the car to get an oil change.” 

“Why would you do that? I can do that right here. In fact I can show you how to do it yourself.” Dean reasoned.

“But we never know when you are going to be around, do we? You could be here at breakfast, and then when I get home from classes, you could be gone.” she said it almost emotionlessly. because it was the simple, honest truth, they all knew it, and it just was the way it was.

Dean pursed his lips and nodded, “good point.”

“Anyway, I had the oil changed, and now its chugging along. Like it looses its energy all of a sudden. Makes some huffing and puffing noises. I push the gas, and it tries to go, but it just doesn’t. If I shut it down, and restart it, its ok for a couple of blocks and then it does it again.”

Dean wiped his hands on his jeans, the pie now devoured, the plate empty. “Why don’t you take it back to the garage?”

“Honestly, I don’t know if it will make it there.” Roxi explained, “I was closer to home by the time I realized what was going on.”

“Sounds like they didn’t put a hose back on correctly, and there is air getting in the engine.” he explained; placing his plate in the sink, “Why did YOU take the car for the oil change, where’s Stella?” When he passed by her, his steps brought him unnessarily close to her - even though the entire room was empty, he walked the path closed to her body.

“Stella had classes all day, and then she’s taking Castiel to some art opening in the center. They took his boat.” Roxi referred to Castiel’s gold cadillac, “And there’s this party I want to go to tonight….”

“Party? What kind of party?” Dean spun, interested.

“A college party.” she emphasised, trying not to tell him he wasn’t invited by not telling him he wasn’t invited. 

“Oh, right. right. “ Dean narrowed his eyes on Roxi, and parroted her, “A college party.” 

“yeah, Dean …” she stammered a response, “music, dancing. boys. A Party.” she sighed, “It would not be cool if I showed up, dragging my big brother along.” 

Dean huffed slightly, he stepped into Roxi’s personal aura. Roxi held her breath. She was trying not to offend the Winchester, and wondered if she had overstepped. Dean let his hand drop to her waist, just to the point where the fabric of her shirt lifted above the top of her jeans. He let his hand glide along her bare skin there, to the softness of her back. He dramatically breathed in her coconut scented hair, whispering into her ear, with a heated breath, “I am so not your big brother.” 

The air escaped Roxi’s lungs in one full swoop, leaving her dizzy and lightheaded. But by then, Dean’s hand had slipped away, and he was in the living room, reaching for the TV remote in the living room.


	2. 2

“hey guys ….check this out…” Stella blared through the front door, rattling the hinges; tossing her cardigan over the banister to the stairs. Castiel followed silently, pulling the door shut, picking up the sweater as it fell to the ground. “The art show that we just went to … it was by this photographer from Athens, Ohio. He had a very interesting array of photos taken in his college dorm at Ohio University”

Sam clomped down the stairs quickly, “Let me guess, the Ridges?” He referred to the name of the dormitory. 

“Yeah, You’ve heard of it?” Stella asked, still not containing her excitement.

Sam nodded, standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking as if he hadn’t decided if he was going to go back up or stay in the living room, “There are college dorms there now where there used to be an asylum. Not a very good asylum either.”

Dean looked up from the TV, “There never is a good Lunatic Asylum is there? I think its in the name. But the Athens Lunatic Asylum was pretty famous, especially for their slice and dice practices. Hunters are told stories about Athens Ohio when they are still cutting their baby teeth.”

“Remember that one time, we were traveling with Dad on a case, ended up in that cemetery …” Sam reminisced. 

“No names on the graves, just patients’ numbers.” Dean curled his back, and shuttered, “Creepy. Did not make it easy to find the spook’s bones.” 

“Well , listen, these weren’t pictures of haunted places, spectres, or ghosts, or anything like that.” Stella interrupted the brothers’ trounce down memory lane. 

Castiel agreed, after returning from a retreat to the kitchen, sporting a beer for everyone, “It was fairly hard to discern what the photos were of…”

“Whatever it was, it was not human.” Stella decided

“But this was an art show?” Sam asked, pulling the label off his beer with time honored practice. “Photoshop, some artistic flair, art doesn’t exactly have to be naturally occurring. Its all part of the creative process.“

“They weren’t part of the exhibit.” Stella announced, “I was talking to the photographer’s sister, we started chatting about crazy things we’ve seen, and such. General small talk I guess.” 

“That’s your small talk?” Dean taunted, “No wonder you have no game.” 

“Shut it, Winchester.” Stella quipped quickly enough, tossing a pillow in his direction, “Yeah, so anyway …. She was telling me about how her brother was taking pictures at night in the library, and caught this thing …. they didn’t know what it was; and they barely knew it was there, but once he printed the pics, there it was.” 

“Ghosts have been known to show up on film before.” Dean reasoned, smacking his lips, enjoying the robustness of the dark ale. Jayna had bought some imported brews and lagers as a treat when she realized the boys were staying for a few days. Otherwise it was only BudLight and Twisted Tea in the frig. 

“This had humanoid form.” Castiel corrected.

“But not human.” Stella agreed.

“So you think its a case?” Dean sat forward, interested.

“Yeah, I do.” 

Sam brought his hands through his hair, then tucking it behind his ears, “I could make some calls. There are some hunters that base themselves not far from there; because the place seems to be a geographical paranormal magnet.” Dean and Stella nodded in unison.

“How’s Jayna, she feeling any better?” Dean asked, his green eyes lightening with mentioning the psychic.

Sam shrugged, “No, not really. The client still has cancer, she is still going to die. and there is nothing we can do about it. so, no - not really. She isn’t any better.”

“A bath can not make that go away.” Cas discerned, gulping back his ale.

“She had a bad day, huh?” Stella inferred from the conversation, “It happens once in awhile. She’ll bounce back. It takes a little bit.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, “Maybe she needs something to take her mind off of it.” 

The suggestion brought Dean Winchester , Stella DeLuci & even Castiel to look at directly at Sam. Feeling all eyes on him, Sam glanced up, his eyes wide, innocent, rounded pools of hazel sweetness, his voice, innocent, “what?”

Shaking his head in dismay at his brother’s cluelessness, Dean took to the stairs, “A case.”

The trio followed eachother to the stairs, to rise Jayna from her self imposed isolation, single file down the hallway to her bedroom. A laughing sheik erupted from behind the door, followed with a cackle of laughter and giggles. “What the hell?” Dean smirked. 

But the sound of Roxi’s voice revealed any mystery, “No way, that did not actually happen!!!” 

“I wouldn't lie to you!” Jayna’s eyes were streaming with tears, but this time it was from the spikes in her sides from laughing too hard. 

“You had a fight with a pigeon?” Roxi squealed accusatory to Dean, still unable to control her giggles. 

“That wasn’t in the books.” Stella declared, with a tone of ‘tell me more.’

Before Jayna could answer, Sam clarified, only too eager to get in the friendly ribbing of his brother, “It was post Chuck - and it was part of a case …”

“Alright! “ Dean held up his hand like a teacher settling down the class, “I thought you, “ he said to Roxi, “were going to a party.” 

“It was lame.” she answered, “Plus I brought Aunt Jayna some of that gourmet truffle popcorn she likes from the Chocolate Factory.” 

True to form, in Jayna’s lap was a huge bag of popcorn drizzled with white, dark and milk chocolate. It was about half full. Jayna’s eyes sparkled from glee and a slight chocolate high. Crossing the room, Sam dipped his hand into the bag, ceremoniously taking a handful of popcorn from the psychic. Castiel squinted at this irregular unlike-Sam action. Sam, who he never had seen eat anything unhealthy since he met him. “The miracle of chocolate.” he murmured, kissing the top of Jayna’s head affectionately. If it helped Jayna get over her bad day, it was healthy enough. 

“So …” Jayna sublimated as she passed the popcorn bag around the room, “what’s this about a case?”


	3. 3

When the girls had finally gotten to Athens Ohio, the Winchester boys were already settled into their usual scabby hotel room, and had surveyed the campus in their FBI get ups. Much to Dean’s chagrin, the girls had taken a flight the afternoon after the boys left in the Impala. Athens was a good 10 hour drive from Jayna’s - but Stella had a paper due, and she and Roxi both had classes that morning. so leaving first thing in the morning with the boys was out of the question. With a quick call to a client of hers, who happen to be a travel exec, Jayna had the three of them booked on an afternoon flight to Mid Ohio Valley Airport, bringing them still 50 miles outside of Athens; with a chauffeured town car waiting to take them the rest of the way to their destination. 

Meeting them finally at the Hampton Inn right outside Ohio University campus, Dean teased Jayna about her luxury suite. Her choice of hotel was not 5 star, but it was definitely a few steps above the usual Winchester digs. “Oh, don’t worry, I booked rooms, for all of us.” Jayna smiled broadly. ignoring Dean’s protests that they already had a hotel room. “Shut up Dean.” She quipped, “Hampton Inn is nice enough, and I won’t have to worry about anything crawling over me when I sleep.” 

Sam stifled a chuckle, his mouth curving in a smirk, hearing Jayna self deprecatingly teasing herself in his head, “I would never make it as a hunter.”

“whatever, its your credit card.” Dean shrugged. 

“Campus has been a dead end so far.” Sam offered up, while shoving Jayna’s overnight bag on the top shelf of the closet, “Nothing strange or out of the ordinary.”

Roxi offered Dean a handful of the grapes she was eating, which he waved away, only to dig through the fruit basket for something a little more his taste. Something sweeter, or tangier, or somehow not as healthy. Not in Jayna’s basket. He literally scoffed as he found only fruit and granola bars. Sam smirked at his brother’s discomfort. 

Dean pulled his tie undone, “Maybe our zoot suits scared them off this time, since we aren’t exactly investigating anything in particular.” But with those words, Castiel arrived in the hotel room doorway.

“I think I found something.”

Stella, although quiet since their arrival, huffed proudly as she rushed the door to greet the angel. The Winchester boys weren’t convinced of her theory of a non-human humanoid creature on campus, still them not finding anything was a disappointment. Cas however was with her when she discovered the photos at the art show, he had a better chance of finding something, knowing perchance, what he was looking for. Castiel didn’t have a chance to expand before Stella’s arms were around him, gripping his vessel to her body with sudden force. Cas couldn’t help but return the embrace; letting his hand hide beneath her reddened locks, “Was your flight suitable?” he asked turning his attention to the young lady wrapping herself around him, his voice lowered and huskier than before. His blue eyes searching through her. She nodded into his chest, he smelled like honey and vanilla and heaven. He asked further, “You turned in your paper? (Stella nodded again) Are you tired?” he seemed to ask her if she was tired often. And she usually answered, “I could use a nap.” to which they would both retire to whatever sleeping room was available, cuddle up and nap. It was a little routine they had; their ‘thing’. Sometimes it was just to get away from the bustle of human interaction, and just be. And “Be”-ing, cuddled with an angel was the way to go. 

Stella did not answer his last question, just reached up and palmed his cheek gently. The scruff of his 5o’clock shadow prickling her hand.

Dean cleared his throat, he would tell the two to get a room except they already had a room, so he only insisted, “What did you find Casanova?” 

Castiel ignored the name-calling and began, “There was this area of land behind the athletic centers, near the river, that seems to be a walking area for staff and their pets. I discovered a professor struggling with his basset hound.”

The mention of a dog, and Sam’s eyes softened around the edges immediately, “struggling how?”

“The dog was frightened.” Castiel continued, his eyes narrowing as he explained, “Very frightened.” The crew was already used to Castiel’s understanding with the various species of the earth, although with his fractured grace, one never knew when his powers were ever-present or not. “There was an incident last night, when the professor was walking the dog sometime close to midnight. As they were walking along, Ozzie (‘nice name’, quipped Dean) stopped suddenly in the path, and would not move. He rose his haunches, and growled at the path in front of them. At first the professor didn’t see anything, but once he was able to move the dog even a little bit, he saw a figure hunched near the tree.” 

The suspense was getting the best of Stella, she had to slap her hand over her mouth to stop from screaming, beneath her hand she mumbled, “What did he see?”

Cas shook his head, “He wouldn’t say. He just said something spooked his dog, and the dog was still upset from it.”

“So what did the dog see?” Jayna asked, her tone sounding innocent. Roxi snorted, dropping her head forward so that her long ebony waves hid her laughter.

Cas and Jayna ignored her. They both knew better, “Its not easy to discern from canines, even on my best days. Their thoughts are so scattered.” he shook his head as if trying to dismiss the idea, but Jayna wasn’t falling for it, finally Cas admitted, “The dog saw it as a threatening human. A bad human. That is all.” 

“Did this professor have a name?”

“Seward. Professor William Seward.”

 __________________

Professor William Seward taught Fine Arts for over 10 years at Ohio University. “In particular,” Sam informed looking over his laptop at Jayna who was enjoying her breakfast of a croissant, yogurt and pineapple. Sam stole a piece of pineapple from her plate, “get this ... his area of speciality is photography.”

Stella nearly choked on her coffee, “So he probably teaches Boyd Millas.”

“The art show guy, right?” Dean confirmed, pointing his fork at Stella, verifying that he was following along on cue. The crew had gathered in Jayna’s suite (the others had double occupancy rooms on the same floor), ordering a full array of breakfast foods from room service. Roxi had ordered a belgian waffle; which made dean incredibly jealous since he only ordered a smothered omelette. With some sweet talking, and a ton of batting his glorious green eyes in her direction, he convinced her to split both plates between the two of them. Stella had a plate of glorious banana pancakes topped with strawberry compote and whipped cream that she was forcing Cas to partake with her. If he had his druthers, he would have stuck with his Southern Biscuits and honey. 

Swallowing, Sam continued to read from the University’s website, “The photo department consists of over 11,000 sq ft. Four large communal B&W darkrooms; five color darkrooms; Two large lighting studios, a digital imaging facility ….” he scanned forward, “Want to guess where the photography department is?”

“Ridges?” Dean answered already knowing the answer.

“That’s creepy.” Roxi decided, pushing her plate away from her, full. There was still some waffle and omelet left on her plate. Dean shook his head, “Amatuer.” Roxi added as Dean stole her leftovers, “I don’t think I would want to go to any classes in the Ridges, or whatever.” 

Stella opened up the campus map she acquired upon their arrival on the top of Jayna’s bed. “The Ridges are no where near the Athletic Mall. Actually, the Ridges are totally separate from everything, you have to actually cross the Hocking River to get to it.” Cas looked over her shoulder and pointed to the precise point he saw Professor Seward. She was right, it was not near the Ridges, although it was along the river, be it the other side.

“I’m still not sure there is a case here, sunshine.” Dean announced, pouring himself a cup of coffee, Jayna nudged his arm to fill her cup too.

Roxi stood, determined, “I think we should go talk to Professor Seward.”

“Yeah, we should.” agreed Stella rubbing her hands together. 

“We got it.” Dean said authoritatively. He and Sam had experience with talking to people under the guise of some sort of cover. He did not have complete faith in the girls going at it on their own. 

Stella put on her brightest, sweetest smile and knocked the hunter down a peg, “Dean, no offense. but you and Sam can’t pass as college students anymore. But Roxi and I can.”

“I wasn’t thinking the college student approach ….” Dean attempted to stammer a retort, but Jayna cut him off, “You’re right, of course. I am sure Stella has a plan.” to which Dean just growled into his coffee.

Plan. Yep. Stella had a plan . 

She really didn’t. It wasn’t until she and Roxi were knocking on Professor Sewards’s office door did she know what she was going to say.


	4. 4

The professor stared out the window; holding the pile of photographs in his hand. Five grainy 8x10s of some kind of creature, loitering in the Ohio University’s archive library. One shot actually looked like the creature was leaning over a table, over a very large tome of text of some sort.

“yes.” he said to his own reflection more than the two ladies who crossed his office doorway just moments ago, “I have seen these photographs before.” 

“What about in real life? Have you seen THAT in real life?” Roxi’s demeanor lacked Stella’s tact. But it was exactly what they wanted to know. There wasn’t a guise or scheme that they were hiding behind to get information from Professor Seward. They weren’t posing as FBI agents, or co-eds, or students, or friends of Boyd Millas.

They knocked on the professor’s door and merely said,”I’m Stella, this is my sister Roxi - we are investigating a weird, maybe paranormal being that has been seen on campus.” The truth. Simple and to the point. The professor did not hesitate or invalidate them. He nodded and let them in, closing the door behind them. “I’ve been waiting for this.” he seemed to say without actually saying it. 

Professor William Seward was a stereotypical college professor … of the arts. He wore black pants, and a gray turtleneck, with a black blazer thrown over it. He had an earring in one ear. It almost surprised them that he didn’t have a ponytail. Rather, his hair was stark white, and cropped within inches of his scalp, enough to allow natural curls to surround his ears and nape of his neck. That was, after it creeped away from the top of his head in a shiny bald crescent. He had the look of a man who never was very attractive, that he lived most of his life being fairly average, but he took to the arts and that was his gift, his bohemian sex appeal. Stella observed this quickly with an appreciative nod. It, however, creeped Roxi out. 

He hesitated. Thoughts spinning through his head. Contradictions. If he admitted that he had seen this thing, this creature, what did that mean? Was he crazy? He was a firm believer in the paranormal. Ghosts and spirits and such. That was no secret. That didn’t make him crazy. But he didn’t go spouting out how he’d seen things. That was an entirely different thing.

“Why are you investigating this ...thing?” he asked plainly, turning to face the girls again. His eyes were watery and grey. Roxi crinkled her nose. He really creeped her out. “Are you writing an article?” 

“No.” Stella answered quickly, “We are just interested. Curious. That’s all.” 

\--------- 

The Ridges Maintenance shop was attached to the cylindrical tower of the The Ridges Heating Plant. Red aged brick and white washed window panes and moldings looking very much like the oldest part of the university. Professor Seward led the way to what appeared to be a rarely used alley to a painted grey door beneath the stone stairs to the shop. “Are we looking for Harry Potter?” Roxi quipped in her best Dean Winchester imitation, rolling her eyes when Stella shushed her with a glare. 

Before he slid his key in the lock, the Professor whispered, somewhat wavering, “I don’t think he’s hurt anyone, yet.” Stella felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck, and held back a gasp. She didn’t like the sound of that, of the term, ‘yet’.

Roxi’s hands balled into fists immediately, her knuckles whitening from the effort. What were they doing? The two of them. Alone. With this crazy ass professor, who could take them into this dungeon under the stairs and have his way with them, or worse. What were they thinking? Stella nonchalantly felt at the back of her jean’s waist band, where her firearm was resting, hidden beneath her cardigan, confirming it was there and ready. Roxi however didn’t have many places to hide weapons, decked out in a tight tank top covered with a translucent blouse, and skinny jeans. She did have her favorite junior Machete tucked in the sheath of her boot. Still Roxi floundered, “uh, Stella….” she whispered.

Stella shrugged as if to say, “what else are we going to do? We’ve come this far.”

Roxi didn’t like it. It didn’t feel right. 

There were two rooms. Both dark even though lit with lamps on either end of the walls. The wall were bare red brick, and the air dank and cool. There was only one window at the far end of the second room, but it was narrow and cloudy, high up on the wall, as basement windows usually are. “Doctor … Doctor are you there?” the professor called out but yet in a hushed tone. 

“You should not bring me visitors.” a voice came out from the shadows. “Why would you do this?” 

The professor stopped suddenly, even stepping back twice, “perhaps this was a mistake.” he whispered more to himself than to the sisters. 

Stella swallowed hard, and let her adrenaline surge within her, “Hey there … Doctor.” she said as nonchalantly as she could muster, stepping forward into the halo of one of the lights. She knew she was completely visible to the man hiding in the shadows. “Why are you hiding in the dark? Come out and say hello.” 

“WHY.ARE.YOU.HERE?” he asked, his voice booming against the walls, echoing back at them. 

“Not really sure at this moment.” Roxi answered, under her breath rather than to the Doctor. 

“Doctor Stanley...“ Professor Seward started. But the good doctor had no time for his professor friend’s explanations.

Within a breath Dr. Stanley rushed forth towards the door. There was only one door to this basement containment room, and it was directly behind the visitors, as they had just stepped through it to enter. At first they thought him a small man, but rather he was slumped over at the waist, as if weighed down by the density of his shoulders and head. He sent forth with such force, that he shoved Roxi DeLuci to the ground with one push, and he scurried up the stairs as quickly as his tree trunk legs could take him.

 ---------

“What did he look like?” 

Stella grasped her tea cup tightly in her hand. The heat from the beverage radiated across her fingertips and palm. “I’m not that sure.” she stuttered. 

They had reconvened in the Jayna’s suite, tea cups in hand. Jayna had brought some of her own herbs from home, and had brewed a full pot of chamomile tea in the hotel room. Something about Jayna’s herbal teas that settled them all into their own little groove. Perhaps because she picked each tea specific for the individual, brewed each cup with its own fresh tea leaves, and whatever herbs she might feel fit to add at the moment for that person. One of her favorites for the Winchesters was a Nettle Cinnamon Rose Hip infusion. High in vitamins (C,K, iron), and good for general protection, she brewed a large pot of it as soon as she knew the boys would be around, and kept it on hand. She dosed it with a shot of whiskey for the boys, which made Dean love the tea even more. She almost always gave the girls a chamomile concoction. Lemon Balm, Lavender, honey, vanilla, whatever she felt fit their mood - but she liked the chamomile to help settle their nerves, help them sleep. Since they were on the road, her resources were limited. She made due with a simple chamomile and a hint of mulberry. “I think I might need something stronger than tea, Auntie.” Roxi complained, pushing her long curled tendrils from her face, discontentedly. 

Jayna smiled and nodded authoritatively to Dean, who graced each cup with a splash from his whiskey bottle.

“I didn’t see anything.” Roxi maintained. “his voice was in the shadows, and next thing I know I was being knocked on my ass.”

“Way to stay alert, Rox.” Dean nearly scolded. Roxi pouted into her mug. Dean shook his head defeatedly. “You should not have gone alone.”

Jayna situated herself on her bed top, overlooking her friends. Her peach kimono robe pooling over her feet as she tucked them under her, “Its too late for that.”

Castiel traced circles on her back as Stella pondered over the question that was posed, chewing on the corner of her lip. The taction of the angel’s palm sent soothing sensations throughout her body. “It was weird.” she finally said with a sense of conviction, “He was vile.” She ignored Jayna’s scowl as she continued, “I don’t know how else to describe it. He was vile and putrid, and hate embodied. I think, he looked like an ordinary dude. Totally unremarkable, so much so that I can’t remember anything about him. Not the color of his hair, or his built, not even how tall he was.” 

“He was big. Tall. But he was hunched over some. But when he hit me, he went through me with complete unstoppable force.” Roxi added, trying to help her sister with the description, and rubbing her shoulder as if reliving the moment.

“Was he?” Stella shrugged, “I’m telling you, I have no idea. Its like, all I remember is what it felt like. There was something wrong with him. Something just wrong. Like he didn’t belong in his own skin, like he didn’t belong here. And he was heinous, monstrous, cursed. But yet, totally normal looking.”

“I still don’t think there is a case here.” Dean spoke up,pulling his hand across his stubbled chin, “Maybe he’s just some poor deformed guy who lives in the basement of the college. We aren’t in the business of hunting disabled persons, who for all intents and purposes are minding their own business, and not hurting anyone.”

Raising his eyebrows, causing his forehead to crease even deeper, Sam agreed, “The professor may be just helping this guy out, who otherwise might be ostracized from the usual population.” Sam’s words hit Stella harshly, and tears welled up immediately in her softened mutable eyes. She was always sensitive to people from all walks of life, different abilities and disabilities, she was the nonjudgmental, empathic one. The thought that she was judging someone purely on facade or image made her stomach revolt against herself. 

“NO.” she uttered so softly, it was a struggle for everyone to hear her, “NO. That isn’t it. Something is not right here. I can feel it.” 

The words hit Jayna like a firework, hot, fiery and explosive all at the same time. She cocked her head left and right in a slow deliberate motion, as if stretching her muscles, and preparing for a battle. Sam looked at her quizzically, sensing her oncoming words, “Boys. I need a moment with my girls.” You couldn’t have moved Dean quicker than with a cowpoke; he and Cas departed without a word; just a silent kiss on Roxi’s and Stella’s heads from each of them. Sam however lingered a moment.

It was clear to get a last minute instruction from Jayna, “See what you can find on this Doctor Stanley, and his connection with Ohio university; or the Ridges.” Sam nodded, accepting his marching orders.

“Rain check on movie night then?” he whispered as he placed a soft lingering kiss on Jayna’s cheek, just shy of her ear.. 

“You know it Winchester.” Jayna winked coyly, giving him a quick squeeze for good measure.

“Now.” she said suddenly steeling herself, and sitting upright at the foot of the bed in front of Stella and Roxi, “Let’s talk about these ‘feelings’ “


	5. 5

The air was heavy and thick with humidity, unseasonably warm for the spring season. But the moisture in the air, and a quickly passing cold front, caused a flash fog to hover over everything. Visibility was not farther than an arm’s distance. Lora stepped out onto the walkway, chasing the chill up her bones away with a shake of her head. She knew she hadn’t stayed so late at the library, but she had a special project due in a few days, and every minute counted. What she hadn’t accounted for was the time she got sidetracked talking to Professor Seward. She wondered why it was so easy to chat it up with this middle aged pear of a man. But it was. She was surprised when she felt herself admitting how stressed she was over the class work, how depressed she was about not being home when her grandmother was ill, how it all seemed to add up to so much, and so little at the same time. He listened so intently, and told her that all first year college students go through the same conflicts, and that she was completely normal, she actually believed him. It didn’t feel like he was an adult just telling her what she needed to hear in order to get the work done. Lora pulled her hair back into an elastic, trying to tame the curls that were letting loose with the humid air. In her bag was a new journal. Something else that Professor Seward and encouraged her to start. Start a journal write down all your feelings no matter how petty. This way in a few years when she had gotten through it, she can look back and see how far she had grown. It sounded like a great idea in premise, but in reality it was just one more thing for her to do. 

The walkway in front of her was barely visible. But she was confident that she could find her way back to her dorm without issue.

She lost that confidence rather quickly, when she found herself standing in front of the Ridges Heating tower. “This is ridiculous!!” she muttered under her breath, staring at the rounded brick walls. She was in the process of getting her cell phone when the sound of movement startled her into attempting to glance up at whomever was coming towards her. She saw nothing. “Hello?” She called out into the greyness. When the figure stepped towards her, she was still digging in her bag for her cell phone, it had fallen to the bottom, beneath her books, her laptop and her journal.

“The goal of all life is Death.” The figure said. The voice was decidedly male.

“what did you just say?” Lora said stepping back a pace. She recognized the quote from Freud. She had just moments ago, while she was in the library, written it in her journal.

“The goal of all life is Death.” He said again, closing the distance between them. But yet he was merely a shadow, black, gray and nondescript. He hovered over her, his breath rancid, steaming down upon her. Her blood turned to ice water as his voice came to her again, coursing through her veins, freezing all of her muscles with it. She thought she might scream, but her voice was gone too. She wished upon wished she had a knife to cut out this being’s heart. And this thought frightened her most. She had never felt such hate and loathing in all her life. She often believed she was full of love and kindness. But not then, not to this man, this creature. She only felt hate and despondence. She wanted him dead; and for no reason she could name, just dead. She stared at him, full of revulsion and repugnance. “I have come to cure you.” He whispered. They were the last words she heard before the world went silent and black.  


__________

“They found her body this morning, right near the Ridges Heating tower.” Sam announced as he held the door open for Jayna, “Are you sure you are up for this?”

Jayna smirked bemused at the Winchester, “I can handle it, darling.” She cooed. Although, she wasn’t exactly sure if that was the truth. She had seen her share of dead bodies, and had shared visions with many people who battled with PTSD, and had seen worse than she could even imagine. But this was her own experience. This was a college co-ed, the same age as Roxi. Dead while she walked to her dorm from the library.

“And you said, her skull was cracked open?” Jayna cleared her throat to prevent her voice from cracking.

“Yes. Sort of.” Sam paused, “It was drilled into. And it looks like the force of the drilling, cracked the surface of the cranium.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Jayna said, stopping dead in her tracks with his words, feeling all the blood leave her face, and her skin turn a pale shade of grey.

Dean finally spoke up, following Sam and Jayna into the Medical Examiner’s lab room, therefore not seeing the effect the idea was having on the psychic, “That’s not the worse of it. The brain matter was liquified. Like put through a blender.. Just scrambled. Like they drilled into her brain and …..” he hesitated to find the right words. It was then he caught Sam’s leering bitch face telling him to shut the fuck up.

“Look Jayna….”

“I’m ok, Sam.” She answered quickly, gathering her resolution and swallowing her doubts. “This is why I am not a hunter.” She muttered under her breath as she decided to take up the lead into the lab room; forcing herself forward no matter what.

______________

Stella and Roxi were still alseep. Both nursing monster headaches from being up all night playing psychic games with Jayna. When Dean had figured out that Roxi hadn’t made it to her own bed that night, he came pounding on Jayna’s door, with Cas in tow, looking for Stella. Jayna promised that the girls were fine, just tired, and psychically spent (whatever that means, grumbled Dean). While Sam and Dean took Jayna along for the investigation, Cas was under strict instructions to feed the girls a breakfast hash of white and sweet potatoes, onions and carrots and ginger spiced tea. (Jayna had called and spoke with the room service chef herself to order it in advance). The root vegetables would literally help ground them, and ginger was a good herb to aid psychic abilities, and was good for general protection also, which couldn’t hurt.

It was in the phone call to the chef that Jayna learned about the murder. The entire campus was abuzz about it, and the kitchen staff was not immune. “Do you think it’s a case now?” She asked Dean in a bit of an accusatory tone.

“We still don’t know if its all related. Or if its our kind of thing.”

“Scrambled brains?” she questioned.

“Could be just a random crazy dude.”

“urghghgh Dean.” She groaned, staring over the sheeted body. Sam held the tips of the sheet, procrastinating revealing the girl’s body. “Go on, Sammy.” She whispered, giving him the okay.

It wasn’t as bad as Jayna thought it would be. She was dead. That was definite. Jayna did not pick up any psychic residue from the body. She was dead, and her soul had moved on. Or at least was not with the body. When she reached out to touch the face of the victim, she felt Sam hold his breath, simply out of concern for her. Oh Sammy she thought proudly, but then had to push her own thoughts forcibly from her mind. Without a soul or any psychic residue, she was only dealing with muscle memory, and that was the hardest to read of all. Especially when the muscle she needed to read the most was “scrambled.”

“Its like one of those fancy eggs.” She heard Dean interrupting her process, “the poke the holes in, poke the yoke a bit, and then blow the egg guck out the hole. But the egg gets all scrambled on the way out.”

“Why is it always food with you?” Sam asked quietly.

Dean shrugged, “I didn’t have breakfast.” 

The word scrambled was stuck in her head, stopping the process and curdling her stomach. And now, she didn’t think she could even look at an egg the same way again. “She didn’t know the person. Or at least didn’t recognize them. She was surprised.” They sat at the café table, Dean awaiting a full meal, with lots of bacon and sausage; Jayna and Sam both nursing their coffees and only ordering toast and fruit salad. Sam and Dean, however, looked at Jayna doubting her interpretation of the dead girl, “Her muscles were taut and stiff. Not in death, but just prior.” She explained. It wasn’t an exact science, but it would do.

“How’s this for weird, though – “ Sam added, “The coroner’s report, is claiming it is suicide.”

“Yeah, cuz she drilled the holes in her own head.” Dean spat.

Sam couldn’t understand it either, but stated, “They found her journal on the scene. Last journal entry was dated that night, and was all about death and depression, and how ending it all would be the answer to all of her problems.”

“That’s bullshit.” Jayna declared a little too loudly than she meant.

“I don’t disagree.” Sam pushed the fruit around the plate, picking out the best pieces.

“So, a cover up then?” Dean practically accused, “and the victim’s family is ok with that?”

“The victim’s family knows she was depressed. She’s been seeing a psychiatrist for years; has tried all sorts of medications. They have the cause of death as overdosing. Toxicology reports show a lethal dose of antidepressants, antianxiety and antipsychotics.” Sam looked down at the file as he ran a finger along the list of medications on the report. “She was on a lot of meds.”

“Were all of them prescribed to her?” Jayna asked, politely taking the file from him to read herself.

“Yes. But not all at once. Not in those amounts, certainly. Except for Thorazine. They found thorazine in her system, a pretty high dosage, but she isn’t on Thorazine … and…” Sam paused, leaning over to point to the file now in Jayna’s hands, “ Mescaline.”

“Mescaline?” Dean wondered outloud, his mouth full with a breakfast biscuit and sausage, “Like Peyote?”

“Some form of it.” Jayna answered, her face showing her confusion and disorientation.

Dean swallowed, “So, the family isn’t going to think twice that someone who battled with mental illness her entire life, who not only had mescaline in her, but also an obscene amount of her other medications in her system … died from suicide.”

An idea came to Jayna, “This report could very well be falsified.”

“Part of the cover up, results of a toxicology report to support the suicide determination.” Sam agreed.

Dean leaned back in his chair, his stomach distended slightly from his breakfast gluttony. “Still, is it a case? Is it our kind of thing” Granted, it was all sorts of messed up. Things just not adding up. But was it a case for the Winchesters? 

“I don’t know, Dean.” Jayna admitted, “I just don’t know.”


	6. 6

“I don’t get it - why would they cover up a murder, by saying its a suicide? That just sounds so crazy to me.” everyone tried their best not to roll their eyes at Roxi with her use of the term ‘crazy’. Everything was crazy. They were at the site of a former Lunatic Asylum. Crazy kinda was their thing there. 

“Maybe the brain carnage was post mortem.” Castiel offered as he stood vigil within arm’s reach of the girls. 

Roxi threw out the question, “That’s still a crime, isn’t it?” She was pretty sure it was.

“Apparently the coroner of Athens isn’t that concerned about things post mortem.” Dean shrugged. He agreed, it sounded crazy. 

“So what you are saying, is that someone is taking advantage of the fact that depression and anxiety are so common in college students, that they are killing people and passing it off as suicide?” Stella nearly jumped out of her seat to pace the room. Her head was still pounding, even though she had consumed what seemed to be an endless supply of ginger tea and ‘fucking potatoes’ .

“Even though their brains are drilled into and their brains blended.” Dean added from his side of the room. He could tell that the idea fired up the sister, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. 

Castiel stood by the door, waiting, watching Stella pace. He sensed she would explode at any moment, and he wanted to be there to help with the cleanup.

“This girl … this girl… struggled with mental illness all her life. And …” Stella’s temper was brewing very close to the top.

Roxi interrupted, “But … “ she clicked on the laptop, “It seems she was in a good place lately.” Stella glared at her sister, her eyes burning with ferocity. Roxi continued, “According to her facebook page, anyway – she was active in all sorts of clubs.”

Stella shrugged it off, “that could very well be a cover. A show for her friends and family. All the while she is locking herself in her dorm, unable to face another day.”

Dean stared at her again, not quite sure if she was serious or being melodramatic, “Look, I get mental illness is a big deal … not something that we should take lightly, but…”

Roxi interceded again, not allowing Dean to finish his thought, “Well, how about a blog, titled, “How I deal with my mental illness.” By Lora G. with an update as recent as 2 days ago?”

“SHUT-UP!!” Stella squealed pummeling over the chair between her and Roxi, nearly tearing the laptop from Roxi’s hands.

“Its all there. All her meds. Side effects. Ups, downs. But over the last few months, all she talks about is heading up this recovery-type group, for students who are dealing with issues, and how she is able to help others because she is doing so well.” Roxi couldn’t talk fast enough for Stella, she scrolled through the blog herself, speed clicking, and speed reading, entry after entry. She took the laptop and secluded herself into the corner, casting a final glare around the room that spoke volumes of, “Don’t.even.talk.to.me.rightnow”

Jayna smirked at her niece and shook her head, she knew well enough to leave Stella when she got like that, just until she sorted things out in her own brain, and was ready to talk about it. She would be lying if she didn’t telepathically check in on her during these times in the past; but time and time again, Stella was just processing things in her own way. Castiel silently and tentatively approached her; wordlessly motioning to the space next to her. Stella could not, of course, resist the angel, she smiled and nodded, allowing him close to her. Castiel sat himself just next to her legs, and pulled her legs onto his. 

“So. Maybe she had a bad day. Maybe she relapsed, or something.” Dean suggested, not really sure of his terminology, but it seemed to fit. “her journal was found at the scene, with all sorts of suicidal talk.”

“Supposedly.” Jayna added. Sam was sitting on her bed, legs up, laptop on his thighs. She pushed his legs apart, and sat between them, her back to the computer.

Sam peeked out from behind his computer screen, “Who’s to say that wasn’t falsified? Or maybe the entries were taken out of context.”

“What did you find on Doctor Stanley?” Jayna asked, looking over her shoulder back at Sam.  
Sam rubbed his hands together. Doctor Stanley. He had almost forgot with all the murder hubbub. “There has been a Doctor Stanley on the board of Athens Mental Health Center since the 1900s. Maybe a generational family thing. The Stanley family has been listed as benefactors of the center since 1879.”

“Athens Mental Health Center.” Dean repeated, “That’s the politically correct way of saying Athens Lunatic Asylum, isn’t it?”

“It went through quite a number of name changes, but yeah.” Sam confirmed.

“Didn’t you say she had antipsychotics in her system?” Stella called over from her corner.

Sam acknowledged the sister, “yeah. Thorazine and Haldrol.”

“She wasn’t on any antipsychotics.” Stella mumbled under her breath as she clicked back through webpages in case she missed something, “She didn’t have psychotic symptoms. She struggled with depression and anxiety, but not psychosis. She wasn’t even considered bipolar, which might reason a antipsychotic prescription.” But that was all the sister had to say at that moment, and she returned to silence and the laptop. Castiel circled the bottom of her foot with the palm of his hand, applying just a hint of pressure on the balls of her feet. Seeing her lips crease into a slight consenting smile, he continued to pulsate his fingertips on each toe, massaging the flesh until it moved effortlessly beneath his touch. When he seemed to hesitate, she pushed her foot more into his hand, signaling for him to continue. He dutifully obeyed. 

“But get this …. “ Sam added, “When you look up Athens Lunatic Asylum, or even Mental Health Center, - it is historically (he repeated "historically" in case they weren’t listening) known for its extreme treatments, including harsh medication trials, water treatment, electric shock and lobotomy. It was a leader in the country in transorbital lobotomies.” 

“So drilling into people’s skulls?” Dean conjectured. 

Sam ‘s dimples flashed as he creased his mouth into a stern line, “Exactly.” He was glad no one asked what water treatment was (being submerged in ice water, or icy blankets for hours at end), or what the difference was between a regular lobotomy (through the skull) and transorbital (through the eyes). He was trying his best to not think about what he had already read. 

A few loud clicks later from Stella’s corner she spoke, “Guys, do you know that there has been … what looks like … at this college, one suicide a year since 1994. In general statistics show that something like 1 in 7 college students have a suicide plan - but one a year at one college seems a bit....” 

“Did you make that statistic up?” Dean asked seriously.

“I don’t think so.” Stella said mostly to her computer screen, “I think I read it somewhere…”

“One a year?” Jayna semi-repeated. “Since 1994?” 

“Well, there were a couple of years where it looks like there were more than one; so at the least one a year.” Stella’s hands still clicked through the websites, “I’m looking through old news archives.”

“So maybe …. maybe… some where real suicides, and some were brain scramblers?” Roxi suggested trying to put the whole picture into focus for herself.

“The Athens Mental Health Center closed in 1993. The university took over the Ridges, Gradually they renovated a few of the buildings and started to reopen and use the buildings.” Sam said from behind his laptop.

Dean and Roxi looked from Stella to Sam, Dean quipped, “Its like dueling nerds.” 

“Let me guess, one of the first buildings to be used was the power plant?” Jayna suggested, offering a wincing smile to her niece Roxi, recalling their incident with Dr. Stanley.

“I’m not finding anything conclusive, but that would make sense; utilizing the facilities while construction was going on in the other buildings.” 

They decided a trip to the library where Boyd Millas’s photographs were taken. “I’d like to get a look at that big book.” Jayna insisted.

Once they entered the archive library, filled ceiling to floor with dusty old books, periodicals and photographs, Dean rubbed his hand through his hair, “Yeah, that’s going to be a real easy task, considering this whole place is full of big fucking books.” 

The air was musty and dank, and made Stella sneeze immediately. Her nasal passages sucked up all of the dust and mold allergens in one quick inhalation, clogging her sinuses immediately. She held her nose tightly, swearing under her breath, until Cas cleared out her sinuses with a quick tap of his fingertip to her cheekbones. “I love you, Angel!” she said almost too casually, hugging him close in a grateful full body hug. He answered the way the Winchesters and Charlie Bradbury taught him, “I know.”

Jayna had a mental copy of Boyd Millas’s photos in her mind. She pulled up the one with the creature and the book, picturing the room, exactly the way the tables were lines up, the shelves behind. Slowly she stalked the room, looking for exactly the right angle, the right composition. It didn’t take long before she pointed, “There.” The tome lay open mid book, across a endcap display, just as it was in Millas’s photo. 

Sam was closest, and started thumbing through the pages. It was called A Treatyse of Incantations. A spell book. Much like the books that the Winchesters were used to in Bobby’s library, or in the Men of Letters bunker. “I’ve never seen this one before.” Sam muttered, trying not to get sidetracked in the allure of the pure antiquity of the masterwork,. “Its not in English.” he squinted at it, turning the page forward and back. His eyes focused and refocused, the text seeming to move or change, “But ….” 

Jayna joined Sam at the book, where it sat almost as if on a podium. Leaning over his arm, Jayna also was confused by the language. But it wasn’t that she couldn’t decipher the language, it was like looking at the pages through a filter. “Its magiked.” she whispered slightly in awe of the idea.

“Magiked? The damn book is magiked?” Dean asked probably too loudly for a library setting. Good thing they were alone. 

“I can feel it, can’t you feel it?” she questioned Sam who just shrugged, “Its like its vibrating slightly, like ….” Jayna hesitated, “Stella - come here.” 

Stella joined her aunt at first with an indifferent, ‘what?.....” but she stopped her words suddenly, as she closed in on the book, “woah…. its like having your phone in your pocket, on vibrate.” She patted her pockets just to be sure that wasn’t the case. Checked her phone, Nope. It was the book. 

“You can feel it too?” Sam asked, his hazel eyes wondering at the aunt and niece. Jayna only smiled. 

Roxi was already getting bored. She actually had missed the conversation about the vibrating book, or else she would have been all over that! But rather she had turned down a darkened aisle, scanning the names of the books distractedly. She had done some time in the library at her own college, even worked there for a time. She may not have the reputation for being the scholarly sister, but she found solace in those rows of books in that quiet space, then. And she enjoyed that nostalgic memory as she glided her fingers across the cracked spines of the ancient books. Dean silently followed a few steps behind her, not wanting to lose her in the myriad of book aisles. It was when she stopped suddenly, that Dean growled questioningly at her, but quieted once she held up a hand to shush him. He inched softly closer to her, listening into the air for whatever it was that had caught Roxi’s attention. He heard nothing. But he could tell she could. He watched as her big brown eyes darted to and fro, and then focused on an area behind the book shelves. She tightened her jaw in consternation, and he could actually see the tiny hairs on her arm stand on end. Could be because he was just that close to her. He went to step back, and Roxi grabbed his arm fiercely, without looking back at him, but as if him taking a step would be too much noise as it was. They were deep in the maze of book aisles, out of the sights of their friends. Stealthy, Roxi pulled two books tilted off the shelf in front of her, leaving a hole just big enough for her to peek through. “What is it?” Dean asked, not being able to see through the hole that was eye-level for Roxi, therefore somewhere in line with his chest. 

“Seward.” she hissed, “and Doctor Stanley.” When she said his name, she felt the doctor’s eyes roll towards her, scanning the rows of books that separated them. She should put the book back in its place. She should block his view of her, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. She could only stare back into those grey watery eyes, the eyes that not only saw her, but saw right through her. 

“We are not alone.” Stanley said to his friend. 

But by the time Seward glanced up towards Roxi, she had recovered from her fixation on Stanley, and had replaced the books in their spot, hiding herself and Dean again. her heart thumped loudly in her chest, she thought for sure everyone in the world could hear it. It was only when she looked down, she realized in the moment of terror, she had slid her hand into Dean’s. 

Dean started to question her about what she had seen, or heard, but Roxi wanted to make their way back to the mid section of the library, where their friends were, where it was safer. Where those men weren’t ….

But before she could drag Dean by the hand, the salty voice of Professor Seward turned the corner towards them, “My friend, Roxi DeLuci. So nice to see you again. What are you doing among these god forsaken prehistoric piles of paper? … and who is this?” Dean thought his eyes flickered once he made eye contact with the Winchester. A kind of recognition, but of what, he did not know.

“This is my …” she hesitated, “Dean. This is Dean.” Dean only nodded a salute to the Professor.

“I was just going over some things with Doctor Stanley. You remember Doctor Stanley don’t you, you met the other day?”

Dean stared down at his hand, as it felt as if it were about to be squeezed off by the vice grip Roxi tightened on it at the mention of the Doctor. He could feel the tips of his fingers get cold and numb as the good doctor stepped out from behind the shadows into the book aisle.

The man who stepped between Professor Seward and Roxi was both Doctor Stanley and not Doctor Stanley. “You …” her voice was caught in her throat, “You look different.” she managed.

“My dear, I do apologize. I was not feeling very well that evening. You certainly caught me at a bad time. Please do forgive me for my rudeness.” He offered his hand. Roxi stared at it as if it would bite. Dean examined the man’s face strigently. He was determined not to forget any details. Stanley was tall, nearly as tall as Dean; lean, not in the least menacing or muscular. Black hair, grey muted eyes, but not nearly as bloodshot or beady as he would have expected. He was dressed cleanly and proper, with a pair of khaki dockers, and a white button up shirt. No tie, no jacket. Not a scar or mark upon his face or hands. Completely unremarkable. Maybe, he wondered if that was why the girls didn’t remember what he looked like from their first meeting. There was nothing remarkable about him. But yet Roxi remembered the feeling. The hate. The hate and the fear. Just the vile loathing that she felt when she first met him, the intense evil that washed over her body. But not this time, It simply was not there, then, as she stood, Dean’s hand grasped firmly in hers. “I understand of course.” the doctor added, acknowledging Roxi’s hesitance at shaking his hand. Dean however, stepped forward, offering his hand instead. 

Roxi nearly hissed outloud to stop him. “don’t” was all she wanted to say, but Dean Winchester grasped that man’s hand as if it were nothing. As if he were nothing, no one. “Nice to meet you Doctor Stanley. Doctor, huh? What are you a doctor of, anyway?” 

“I am a chemical biologist.” he answered plainly. raised his eyebrows in interest.

“You stay in the room under the Power Plant don’t you?” Dean asked, maintaining a strong eye contact with the Doctor, “Isn’t that near where they found that dead girl?” 

Professor Seward smoothed the top of his head, where the white curls met his shiny bald scalp, answering instead of the Doctor “Yes, actually, that is why we are here. Doctor Stanley had enough of the police and the media milling about. We came here for a quiet conversation.” 

“Quite a tragedy.” Doctor Stanley replied gravely somber. 

“There is a very high rate of suicide amongst college students. It is actually the second most prevalent cause of deaths in college age persons.” Professor Seward stated particularly cooly.

“What’s first?” Roxi asked, knowing that it wasn’t exactly the direction that Dean wanted the conversation to go before the words just slipped out.

But the Professor didn’t blink or hesitate before he answered, “Vehicle accidents.” 

“Did you know the girl?” Dean asked trying to get back on track. Roxi surveyed his face. His jaw was tight and set, his forehead slightly furrowed in the center, his eyes guarded and stern. This was FBI Dean, Roxi thought, realizing she hadn’t seen this side of him yet. The cool, hard boiled, no nonsense, interrogating Dean Winchester. She liked it. The way his voice carried his power, the way he held his body, projecting himself. It was sexy as hell.

“No.” Doctor Stanley answered promptly, since it was his face that Dean stared into.

With a slight turn of his view, Dean asked the professor, “You?”

The professor licked his lips in a manner that seemed to be self-consciousness before he allowed himself to answer, “Of course. She was a student of mine.” His tone was smooth, without a hint of emotion.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Dean nodded, respectfully, also trying to illicit a response. He got none. Professor Seward reached towards his friend Doctor Stanley as if to signal to leave. 

Roxi pulled at Dean’s hand, retreating down the aisle, “Well it was nice running into you again.” she was saying, Dean resisted slightly at first, thinking that he could get more information from the two men. But Seward and Stanley had started their own conversation, in inhibited tones, inaudible to them now as they withdrew from the aisle.

“That was weird right?” Roxi asked, being sure not to let go of Dean’s hand, now that she had it in hers, although she did loosen her grip slightly. 

“I didn’t get that evil vibe you and Stella were going on about.” Dean answered, feelings began to come back to his fingers as he still intertwined them with Roxi’s. 

“I didn’t get it this time either.” Roxi concurred, “no, I mean his reaction to the conversation about the dead girl. The Doctor, who didn’t even know her, seemed to be more compassionate about her death than Seward. He seemed like he didn’t care at all. And she was one of his students.” Dean squeezed the brunette’s small hand affectionately, she was right. He hadn’t picked up on it at first, and the fact that Roxi did gave his hunter heart a little throb of pride. 

He tucked her head under his chin fleetingly kissing the top of her curls, “You just might make it yet, Sexy”

“Look at this.” Sam was saying as Roxi and Dean appeared from the depths of the rows of books. “Remember those photos we saw on the internet?”

“The ones that were too grainy, old and blurry that we couldn’t make heads or tails of them?” Dean clarified.

“Yeah - the employee group shots. Day Shift and Night Shift (he tossed the photo on the table). The names of the staff on on the bottom, just like we saw on the internet.” 

“Except these we can actually read.” Stella remarked, leaning over, getting her face nearly inches from the Day Shift photo, scanning each name, each face. 

Dean lifted the Night Shift photo for he and Roxi to take a look at. 

Air forcefully pushed out of her lungs as she gasped, “Holy shit. Dean ….” she pointed to what now felt like an all too familiar face in the photograph. “That looks an awful lot like ….”

Dean was examining the list of names at the bottom of the page, and was able to complete her sentence in concert, “Doctor Richard Stanley.”


	7. 7

“Did you know - “ Stella had taken to reading up on the Athen’s Lunatic Asylum, “Back in 1876 the leading cause of insanity among the male patients was masturbation?” 

Dean was taking a sip of his beer as she said it, and choked immediately, sending the liquid up his nose. 

“In the hospital's first three years 81 men and one woman were diagnosed as having insanity caused by masturbation. The second-most common was intemperance and dissipation. Intemperance and dissipation. Do you even know what that means? I didn’t. I looked it up. Intemperance is basically habitual lack of moderation with alcohol. So being drunk. Dissipation is using your money in a foolish way, or only being concerned with pleasure. So having a good time. Being drunk and having a good time. In 1876, 56 men and one woman were diagnosed as having their insanity caused by intemperance and dissipation.” 

“Where are you getting this information?” Dean was still laughing beer out of his nose.

“Wikipedia.” she said plainly, “Its right here.” she pointed to the computer screen. “And wait there’s more: for the female patients, 51 women were committed due to a "puerperal condition", 32 due to "change of life" and 29 had "menstrual derangements". Those are the three leading causes of insanity in women back then. I had to look up puerperal too.”

Cas spoke up, “post partum.” 

“Yeah!” Roxi agreed vehemently, “Post partum. 51!! 29 due to having their period! 32 due to menapuause. How crazy is that?!”

“We’ve pretty much decided this whole thing is crazy.” Stella answered, sounding slightly condescending. , “Thank goodness modern medicine and psychiatry has progressed since then.” 

Roxi twisted her face into a grimace of judgement, “This is basically showing that the people who were caring for the quote “crazy” people,were actually the crazy ones.” 

“Like Doctor Stanley.” Dean agreed.

“Yeah, like Doctor Stanley.” Roxi loved when she and Dean agreed.

“But guys, lets remember, we are talking about the 1879. Almost a hundred and 50 years ago.” Sam conjectured.

“One hundred and Thirty Six.” Cas added, correcting Sam, who just set him a mini bitch face for being so exact. 

Jayna was putzing around the hotel room, part cleaning up the mess from the pizza dinner, and part just trying to keep herself busy, “They thought what they were doing was helping people.”

“Right.” Sam clarified, “But what I meant was, that was generations ago, this creature or whatever, is it related to that? Should we be thinking about species that spread across generations?” which pretty much eliminated … nothing. 

“He’s not a ghost. I touched him. I had a full conversation with him. He’s real.” Dean answered as if it were the only question asked. “Demon, maybe. Couriering the victims’ souls into hell?” 

“You know … “Jayna started, “Cas and I haven’t met Dr. Stanley, or Professor Seward yet.”

“Neither have I.” Sam said in a ‘so what’ kind of tone.

Jayna smiled softly, patting the front of the Winchester’s plaid shirt, “Yes, dear, however, Cas is an Angel of the Lord, and I’m, well, telepathic.” She tried not to sound arrogant or condescending. Sam tilted his head with pursed lips, a mute version of “you have a point”. Jayna reasoned, “Between the two of us, we should be able to at least eliminate some species of paranormal creatures.” 

“So what, are you going to just walk over there, and show up on his doorstep?” Roxi asked.

“Well, that’s what you girls did.” Jayna teased. 

Dean pulled a cold piece of pizza out of the box, leftover from their dinner, taking a hearty bite, “Yeah, that’s not going to go over twice. And by now, they’ve got to be suspicious of something. If Stanley is some sort of monster, Seward knows it; and I swear he looked at me like he knew me.”

Castiel handed him a napkin to catch the sauce that had landed in the corner of his lips, “Of course. You’re Dean Winchester. Hunter Extraordinaire. All the supernatural world knows who you and your brother are now.” 

“Ok so Sam and I are out for any leg work then. Wouldn’t our Angel be just as well known, then?” Dean asked faintly taunting Castiel. Cas squinted at him, wondering if the human was serious or not. 

Stella interceded, “They know OF Castiel. But he’s not so recognizable as two six foot something burly hunks with anti- possession tattoos, and enough weapons to kill a large village.”

“Sam doesn’t have the tattoo anymore.” Dean pouted. Sam rolled his eyes. “whatever” Stella snided. 

Sam could not contain his smile as he handed Jayna a fresh drink, the hard apple cider she had taken a liking to, buzzing in her ear, “SO, you think we’re hunks?” 

Like a grade school girl would flirt with her crush, Jayna punched his arm, and mocked him, “I didn’t say that.”  


_______________

“I don’t like it.” Stella expressed plainly as her aunt pulled on her leather jacket, and adjusted the clip she had pulling her hair off her neck. She was in jeans and a black tshirt, not one of her usual flowing skirts. “You shouldn’t be going out there on your own.”

Jayna nodded, in some ways she agreed with her niece, but she had decided this was the best way. “The boys can’t do it. You and Roxi can’t either. I am one of the only ones left who hasn’t been made.” she suppressed wincing at her own use of the word ‘made’ , it sounded foreign on her tongue. “Plus - you wouldn’t be saying that to Sam or Dean.”

“Because they’re experienced hunters.” Roxi countered. She knew Auntie was going for the ‘because they’re dudes’ angle, but that wasn’t it at all.

“I’m not going to do anything. I am just going for a walk around the Ridges campus.” she excused.

“Where that creature hangs out, and where Dr. Stanley is, in the dark.” Roxi also didn’t like it.

“At least take Castiel with you.” Stella suggested. “He’s still clean.” 

“Castiel has his own things to do.” Jayna disclosed. She and Cas had already talked about it. He was checking out Stanley. Jayna was going in search of Professor Seward. “Divide and conquer as the old saying goes.”

“More like divided we fall.” Stella mouthed sarcastically, “And Sam and Dean wouldn’t go for it either.” 

“Sam definitely would not like it.” Roxi retorted, with a slight snort, “He’s going to be pissed.”

“None of that.” Jayna straightened her spine, “I refuse to be the weak one to be protected. That is not going to happen.” she sighed, “Just because I like a nice hotel room, and fly in a plane, and won’t spend the night sleeping the back of an impala, does not mean I am weak or too demure to get my hands dirty. Fuck, I fought a battalion of vampires with you girls last year.” 

“There is nothing wrong with sleeping in that Impala.” Roxi voiced full throated. She loved that Impala. And sleeping in it was one of her favorite things to do in that back seat. One of them, anyway. 

“And, well, Sam Winchester knows better than that. He just forgets sometimes. He won’t be pissed.” She flipped her cell into her hand, and went for the door, “Not a word, young ladies.” 

________________

It was a beautiful night. The sky was a deep dark blue with the tiniest of twinkling stars. There was not a cloud in the sky, it was one of the clearest nights in Athens in quite awhile. Doctor Stanley was watching the stars from the bench, the basset hound Ozzie asleep at his feet, when an unassuming man in a suit and a trench coat sat down next to him. He looked up to the skies himself and said in a low gravelly voice, “There is no moon tonight.” 

“Its not that time of the cycle. Its a new moon tonight.” The doctor said with a small smile. Something about this stranger made him smile. A sense of calm fell over him, “Pardon my presumptuousness, friend, but, you smell like honey?” 

Castiel’s smile was slight, and a little crooked, “I have heard that before. I have a fondness for bees. Hence, I also have a predilection for their honey.”

Doctor Stanley nodded as if this made perfect sense, and offered the stranger some of his peanuts. Roasted in a paper bag. Recognizing this as an offering of friendship, and an act of trust, Castiel gratefully accepted. He cracked the shell between his fingertips, letting the broken shell drop to the ground, and slipping the peanut into his mouth. Molecules. The nuts rolled around his mouth and crunched between his teeth. Still, Molecules. 

Professor Stanley sighed, and finally glanced at the stranger, who surprised him by already staring directly into his soul. His blue eyes reflected into Richard Stanley’s surrounding him in a pool of aqueous comfort. “You are an eternal, too. Aren’t you?” the doctor whispered. 

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the question. He was by truth search the man’s soul to attain what he was, or he wasn’t. He wasn’t a ghost, nor demon. “An eternal?” Cas repeated. He had heard the term before but he knew that if he blew his own cover he would never hear the end of it.

“You cannot die. You have lived for years and years without death. You are eternal.” his wording was concise but still vague. 

“I can die.” Cas answered plainly.

“But not of old age or of illness like the rest of this fragile population.” Stanley nudged his chin towards a couple walking a ways from them. 

“How ?” Castiel started to ask the doctor how he knew.

“I was a doctor once. I was very familiar with these people. I knew how their bodies worked, how their minds worked. How both could be broken and repaired. or at least how I thought I was repairing them.” 

Castiel still investigated the face of the doctor, “You are using verbs in the past tense. Do you not know these things anymore? Are you no longer a doctor?” 

He replied with a sigh, and pulling his hand over his face subconsciously, “I don’t know anymore friend. I don’t know.”

Castiel could not yet determine what or who this man was, so he asked, “Are you an eternal?”

The man’s chuckle surprised Castiel. It was selfdeprecating, and sarcastic, “No. or yes. I am not sure. I have been alive for a long time. But I can die. But, to stay alive, at what cost? Sometimes the cost is too much.” But something caught the man’s attention, he spontaneously checked his watch, “I have to go …” he jumped up, his eyes darting left and right down the path before them. “Someone will be looking for me.” He grabbed the leash to the dog who woke with a start and a growl. He reached out his hand, “Thank you friend. Take care of yourself. I would, however, leave Athens, Ohio.”

Castiel gripped his hand in the friendly gesture of a hand shake. The touch of their skin against skin gave Castiel the chance to examine the doctor more thoroughly from the inside. “Human. You are human.” he whispered. 

Dr. Stanley’s mouth creased into a smirk, “Used to be. I hope to be once again.” Castiel watched the man leave him at the bench, the dog scurrying by this feet.  


____________

Professor Seward shoved his papers into the satchel that was nearly as old as the ancient plaid blazer he was wearing. He wasn’t one to keep up with the times as far as fashion and accessories were involved. Although he did have a state of the art computer in his office, right next to his antique Royal typewriter (which was just for aesthetics these days) . His last class was over at 7:45. He had kept them right until the final minute, as he often did. Mostly the students didn’t mind. He was one of those artistic, quirky teachers, that got the classes’ attention and kept them interested all the way. Plus the students who were enrolled in his photography class were there because they wanted to, they enjoyed it, not because it was a prerequisite for anything. It was a cool night. The skies were clear. He would enjoy his walk across campus in the night air. First he would check in on Doctor Stanley; and pick up Ozzie, who stayed with his friend during the day while Seward taught.

The hallways were soothingly quiet, and the sidewalks nearly barren of fellow pedestrians. He was only vaguely aware that something was not quite right in the night. Seward allowed the feeling to fall away from him as he got safely to the door under the stairs, to Stanley’s hideaway.

“You need to be careful, friend.” said Stanley greeting him at the door. “There are people out there who wish us unease.”

“All is well, Doctor Stanley.” the professor deemed as he removed his blazer, and began to roll up his sleeves. “Will you walk with Ozzie and I tonight?” 

Doctor Stanley hesitated, his mind wandering. “What is it?” Seward asked. Before his friend could answer, he heard a snuffle from the only other room in the hideaway, Seward raised his eyebrows as he felt for the presence through his mind’s eye.

“Come out my little witchling. I know you are there.” He said. 

Jayna stepped out of the shadows, “I wasn’t hiding.” she announced, “Doctor Stanley was afraid you would be angry. I was only waiting.” 

“Hmmmm.” the professor looked to Stanley, squeezing his lips together bemused. “You followed me from my classroom. But yet you are here first.” 

“I did not follow you, sir.” she admitted, “I only knew where you were headed, and got here before you.” Jayna folded her hands in front of her, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. All the while she made petty conversation with the Professor and the Doctor, she sent her vision to both of them, probing into their minds, searching for clues, hints at their secrets. But it was in vain. The doctor’s thoughts were closed off from her. She could not guess what was going on inside that skull. And when she tried William ‘s, she was blocked by a very powerful wall. 

“Ah, my little witchling, you will not get much from your parlor tricks with me I am afraid.” Seward cooed.  


“Why do you keep calling me that?” she asked.  


“Because that is what you are, a little witch.” Seward’s smile was sugary sweet.

Jayna chuckled, “I am not a witch.” 

“Oh sure you are. A little kitchen witch. Making teas with magic herbs, protection spells for all your loved ones, and that black cat familiar.” his mouth smiled, but his voice did not sound amused. He sounded laced with creep syrup. 

“And you know this how?” Jayna asked, crossing towards the professor, feeling his eyes upon her.  


Seward pulled a chair out for the psychic, “Because I can look into your thoughts. Just like you can.” 

Jayna ignored the chair and stood in front of the professor, almost as if presenting herself to him, “Not exactly, I can’t get anything from you, or Doctor Stanley.” 

Seward waved his hand in the air, “Simple blocking.” he reasoned. When he realized that she wasn’t sitting down, he instructed her authoritatively, “SIt”. Jayna sneered at him for his assumed dominance, but it was moot, as she felt her knees give way to her butt planting firmly in the offered chair. She swore under her breath.

“My little witchling, my dear.” William Seward spoke, his voice a mix of charm and condescension. He rubbed his forehead distractedly for a moment. Doctor Stanley shuffled in the corner, silently watching his friend domineer over the woman. Jayna felt her arms drop to her sides, and be pulled back, stretching the muscles and tendons across her chest, as her thumbs met behind the chair. Invisible cords held her arms immobile. She pulled once or twice against the pressure at her wrists, but she knew better, it was fruitless. Glancing over at Doctor Stanley she wondered where Castiel was, since his plan for the night was to investigate Stanley. 

“Did you get another visitor today?” Seward asked Stanley plainly. Jayna knew he got the idea simply from her own thoughts.

Stanley shook his head and then questioned “Shall I take Ozzie for his walk while you talk to our visitor?” Seward patted down the white curls away from his shiny balding head, and nodded. Jayna was left with Professor Seward, alone. 

“I am not a witch.” Jayna announced somewhat unprovoked. “Witches make deals with demons for their power. I have no deals with anyone. I have no power. I’m just a psychic.” 

“Just a psychic? A psychic with strong telepathy skills, and the Winchesters in tow.” Seward condemned her. 

“that doesn’t add up to much.” she lied. She was stalling. Hoping to get this conversation to go somewhere useful, “You though. You have some juice, don’t you?” She nodded towards her arms, that were glued to the back of the chair by magicked ties. 

He laughed. Professor Seward laughed outloud, loud thunderous laughter. “I suppose you could say that, little witchling.” Jayna felt a sharp stab of pain at her temple, and the sensation of blood oozing down her throat. She gurgled slightly, grimaced, but still glared at Seward. 

“William.” Doctor Stanley spoke from the sidelines, “We don’t need to ….” 

“Richard, you do not realize that she has the Winchesters with her. We need to dispose of them - one by one; or else we will be disposed of ourselves. That is just how the Winchesters work.” Jayna listened to Sewards words, and tried to comprehend what he was saying, while still battling the pain stabbing through her head. His words, his power, the force that was him fell together in a descriptive picture for her. 

“Warlock.” she spat outloud.

Seward laughed again, “You are a quick student. Maybe I should save you for myself. Baptize you in the blood of those WInchesters, teach you my craft.” 

“Fuck you.” were the words that came out of her mouth.

“Hmmmmm” William Seward hummed, staring into Jayna’s eyes for a moment. Although he didn’t need to use his physical body, it felt so good to rear back his fist, and land it squarely upon her lip. It split immediately, spraying blood over his knuckles. With a demonic grin, and a flick of his tongue, he cleaned his knuckles of her fresh blood. “Richard. fetch me the treatyse.” he ordered. 

“William…” Richard Stanley attempted to talk sense to his friend. But Seward cut him off with a slice of his hand through the air.  



	8. 8

“You’re saying he’s human.” Dean questioned Castiel upon his return from his walk. 

“His body is definitely human, and I did not sense any kind of possession, be it demon, angel or anything else.” Castiel’s words hung in the air.

“He said he used to be human. And he hopes to be it again.” Dean repeated Castiel's recounting of his conversation with Doctor Stanley, “What do we know starts out as a human, and can be cured, and return back to a human?” 

Castiel thought for a moment, accessing his own knowledge of hunter lore, “That’s a pretty short list, Dean. I can’t be sure. Demons can be exorcised, leaving the victim alive, but we’ve already decided it’s not a demon.” 

“But he spoke of being an eternal?” Sam asked, cracking open his trusty laptop, getting ready to Google something, anything. 

“Not as much as he asked if I was one, as if he knew others.” 

“This is definitely Stanley in this photo, no doubt about it.” Dean threw the photo onto the hotel room bed.

“The number of monsters that can be immortal ….” Sam’s words were lost in his throat as he heard a scream that erupted in his blood, a scream that said the word, “warlock.” 

Dean balked, his gun suddenly in his hand, defensive, “Did you hear that? Cas did you hear that?”

Cas shook his head No, staring back to Dean and Sam. “Sammy?”

“It was Jayna.” He recognized that voice. That panic, that fear. He not only heard the word clear as day in his head, but also felt the emotion that came with it.

______________________

What Professor William Seward did not realize that with every assault he made upon Jayna, the weaker he made her body, the less in control of her gift she became. In essence, he was opening a direct channel of Winchester Radio. And it was Jayna’s voice that they heard when she had named him out loud. She broadcasted his name and her fear into the strongest Winchester Radio she could muster. 

“Where is she?” Sam asked, to Dean, to Castiel. At first neither could answer, but Dean added, 

“Somewhere dark. Underground. Sparse. Dungeon like.”

“Richard Stanley lives under the stairs at the power plant.” Cas chimed in as they sprinted for the Impala.  


_____________

“Ok. Warlock. What do we know about Warlocks?” Sam tried to steer the conversation to something productive as the approached the power plant tower.

“There’s that one that I lost the poker game to. Immortal, pretty douchey.” 

“Don Stark was ok. His wife we could live without.”

“So, basically Warlocks are male witches?” Castiel asked before being interrupted by Roxi’s sarcastic jibe:  


“I hate to interrupt this stroll down memory lane, here - but we have business to attend to.”

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Stella scowled at them both, “Did you think you left us snug in our beds back at the Hotel? Sorry to disappoint you boys, but we are here. “She was dressed in one of her favorite hunter outfits, a pair of jeans, and a green khaki canvas jacket with pockets galore atop a hunter plaid printed soft flannel. The color palate did wonders for her eyes. 

“Did you hear it too?” Dean asked Roxi immediately, referring to Jayna’s telepathic shout out. “Of course you did” he answered himself. “Good. Fine. Now what?” Roxi was clad all in black. Black skinny jeans, black tank top, black tapered leather jacket, and her hair pulled back in a black scrunchie. 

“Warlocks are male witches.” Castiel repeated. 

“Human witches?” Stella asked pulling out her firearm from the back of her jeans.

“Human, yes. But powerful son of a bitches. We watched one dude just take a leviathan down with one freakin’ swoop.” Dean warned.

Sam flexed his arm, Ruby’s knife ready, “I think we can assume he’s a natural born.”

Roxi and Stella tried to hide their confusion, Sam added, “Natural born, as opposed to a student, or someone who is borrowing power from a demon. Cas got no demon mojo off of Professor Stanley.”

“But human.” Stella repeated, Sam furrowed his eyebrows, she clarified, and “Humans die pretty easy. No special weapon, no consecrated ground, no special wards or talismans. A dead human is a dead human.” 

Sam nodded, understanding where she was coming from, but needed to add, “Iron works best. It is immune to witch’s powers. The hard part is getting close enough to do any damage. They are very good at offense, blocking and deflecting.” 

“We saw Stanley creeping in just a minute ago.” Stella whispered.

“How did he look?”

“Normal. Very normal.” Roxi said, her voice displaying her confusion, “like at the library. Calm. The dog on a leash. A really big fucking book under his arm.” 

“The magicked spellbook from the library?” Sam asked.

Stella shrugged, “Maybe. We weren’t close enough to see or feel anything off of it, couldn’t tell if it was magicked or not. It was just really frikin big.” 

Finally, the five of them stood outside the door. Weapons drawn. Looking like something out of a video game. Five of them, six if they could get Jayna free, against the two of them. One of which was a warlock; the other, unknown. 

“Should I break down the door? Castiel asked.

Stella reached out and palmed the doorknob. It opened. “Nope, looks like the welcome mat is out tonight, fellas.” 

Dean and Sam went first, doing their whole hand signal system. Stella and Roxi behind them. Castiel taking up the rear. The first room was empty. Roxi remembered the set up from the last time they were there, “Only one door in or out, boys. Cas, you should guard the door. Make sure no one comes or goes.” There was a unanimous nod of consent. They heard voices from the second room. No one needed to tell them to shush, each of them perked their ears up to listen.  


“Drink the elixir, Richard.” William Seward ordered his friend. 

“No, I won’t”. Richard Stanley put the vial on the table top. “I won’t do it.” 

“We discussed this, Richard.” He used his name like a weapon, as if every time he said it out loud it gave him over his friend, “It must be done. For you to survive. You must. They are going to kill you. They are going to kill both of us.” 

“I don’t like what I become, William. I hurt people. That isn’t what a doctor is supposed to do.” He glanced over at Jayna Somers, whose head lulled forward into her chest. Blood congealed and matted her hair, there was a wound at the top of her head that was bleeding, he guessed this was the cause of her unconsciousness. 

“Richard, Richard Richard.” He sounded slightly condescending, “They are sick people. Who WANT to die? You ARE helping them. And getting the ingredients for our elixir is the bonus. And then. Then my dearest Richard, we can continue to help more and more people. It is a symbiotic relationship, really. Everyone wins.” 

“I can not believe that all of those young people wanted to die. You do not allow me to psychoanalyze them, to try other behavior modifications, or other therapy options. Perhaps ….”

“And waste our time, and theirs. You aren’t thinking straight, Richard. Drink the elixir. You will feel better and we can move along with our plan” 

“Our plan” Richard Stanley groaned, “I’m not really sure about that plan either.” He hesitated.

His impatience and anger got the best of him, William slammed his fist onto the table, “Drink the damn elixir, Stanley.” 

The doctor raised the vial in his hand, tilting the glass right to left, watching the red solution wave from side to side. He wasn’t sure of all the ingredients, Professor Seward never shared the entire recipe, but he knew there were remnants of Lora G. in that vile. Her blended, liquefied brain matter. And herbs, and spices, and a drop of the Warlock’s blood. When the blood was added, the serum would glow for a split second, sizzle like it was brought to a boil, and turn crimson. “We have plenty of supplies from the last time to last us throughout this year, until this season is upon us again. Just like we do every year. Anything else is foolhardy and greedy.” Richard Stanley tried a different approach with his friend. 

Professor Stanley too adjusted his course, “You don’t know what we are dealing with, Richard. It’s the Winchesters. They are renown hunters. Reknown. I’m not even exaggerating. And they have that angel with him. …. We will be dead soon. You will see to that if you don’t drink that elixir and help me get rid of them.” 

The sight of the young woman tied to the chair, her blood on Stanley’s hands; he thought he saw her eyes tremble beneath the closed lids, her breathing almost back to a normal rate. Richard Stanley shook his head, “I am a doctor William. Not ….”

“Not what? Not a monster? You are getting a conscious now? After a partnership with me for over 130 years - where I have gifted you with everlasting life, now you have decided that it’s all too much for you, that your fragile heart can’t take it? You will die without my help, without this elixir. It won’t be pretty either. First your stomach will revolt upon you, it will feel like the devil himself has spawned beneath your skin, and the pain will be as much that you will beg for your life to be taken from you, for some relief. No, Doctor Stanley. It will not be pretty.”

“I don’t care about my own health, or my own body. I cannot do it again. Certainly not this soon. Too many doses of the elixir will spoil my blood and returning to my natural state will become harder and harder.” The doctor spoke as if he knew from experience.

Seward shook his head, “you are a fool.” He waved his hand over the Treatyse of Incantations. Its pages fluttered to and fro in his hands; the guardian spell released. He sniffed at the air, “And your executioners have arrived.”


	9. 9

Their sneak attack ruined, the motley crew stepped out of the shadows into the second room. The corner lamps had been literally blown out, where scorch marks reached up the wall behind each one. The only light in the room was from the high narrow window at the far end. The room looked to be a sparsely decorated bedroom. A bed in against one wall. A closet along another, with no door, an open hole in the wall, a pole with a few shirts and pants hanging from it. The deadened lamps in the corners. A small square wooden table, two chairs. One of the chairs was pulled to the side.

A bloody, unconscious Jayna Somers tied to it. 

“Son of a bitch.” Roxi yelped jumping towards her aunt instinctively. 

A vibrato voice boomed from Professor Seward, “NO.” He swiped his hand towards Roxi, throwing her against the wall with invisible force. Roxi had the air pushed out of her lungs in one ‘woooof’. He crossed the front of his body with his other arm in the opposite direction, Sam, Dean and Stella were forcibly pinned against an adjacent wall. The boys had experience of being thrown about, and merely had an annoyed look on their faces (like, “not again!”) but Stella cracked her head pretty hard, letting loose a tirade of colorful language. 

“Stella. Stella. You okay?” Dean checked in from his position.

Between swear words she muttered, “Yeah. I think so.” 

Professor Seward barely glanced at their visitors, he still faced Doctor Stanley, “You’re trepidation has led to this now, Richard. We are going to have to kill all these people. It’s on you.” 

Professor Stanley gripped the red vial in his hand again, shielding it in his palm. 

“Don’t do it.” Stella called out towards the doctor, “It doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to be the monster here.” 

Roxi agreed, trying her best to motion to the professor but her hands were glued to the wall. “He’s the monster here. He is!” 

“Let the girls go.” Stanley muttered to Professor Seward. “You can keep the Winchesters, do what you will with them. They are the threat. These girls are no threat.” 

Professor Seward’s eyes glinted, and a creepy arrogant smile emerged on his rounded face, “Drink the elixir, Richard.” 

“Let them go.” 

Sweat budded on the professor’s brow; he didn’t realize how much of a struggle it was to hold 5 grown humans in a psychic lock. The psychic was easy now that she was unconscious, but the new ones kept struggling. “They will kill you. They will hunt you down, and kill you, don’t you see that? That’s what brought them here in the first place. They were looking for you.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes on the warlock, noticing his stress. And nodded to his brother, who in turn struggled harder. Roxi and Stella followed suit. “Stop Struggling or I will kill you all right now” Seward erupted maniacally. 

“Oh I’m sorry, is this bothering you?” Roxi sneered trying her strongest to pull against the magical ties that kept her to the wall. It was Stella that noticed Aunt Jayna’s hands had dropped to her sides, no longer held tight at the back of the chair. 

“You think you’re going to survive this Professor? I don’t think so.” Dean countered. “Winchesters don’t die. We just get more pissed off.” 

“Drink the elixir.” Seward taunted to Stanley one more time.

Stanley uncapped the vial, “Let the girls go.” 

“Drink.” 

With one gulp, the serum was down Doctor Richard Stanley’s throat, burning like hellfire all the way down. The Doctor heaved and grabbed at his stomach as the elixir rushed through his system. Each cell in his body screamed out in agony and terror. But his eyes never let Seward go. He held onto the sight of him, hate and fury lasering from his eyes. “Let … Them.. Go…” 

With a swish of his arm, Roxi and Stella fell to the ground. Sam and Dean glanced to each other with a bit of fear in their eyes. They called out to the girls, they yelled at the professor. The room echoed with anger, hate, resentment and fear.

“Kill them.” Professor Seward ordered Stanley while pointing to the sisters. Stanley collapsed onto the ground, his face draining of all color. Sam and Dean suddenly understood what the girls meant. Stanley’s body twisted and deformed into a form that was still human, but in so many ways was not. Memories from Hell and Purgatory rose up in both brother’s minds: the pain, the hatred. All embodied in that one man’s face. 

Stella aimed her firearm directly at the witch readying a shot. Before she could shoot off a round, the warlock swung his hand across the front of him, creating a diabolic shield. “Shoot him!” Dean screamed. She shook her head, “It will ricochet and could….” she started to call back; but her sister had pulled out her machete and was letting lose her battle cry as she jumped towards the Professor. His shield deflected her too, Roxi falling to the ground in a clattering heap. 

Dean and Sam struggled against the wall ties even more, but once the girls were free the Warlock was able to focus more energy on keeping them immobile. Stanley was huddled against himself, in a ball on the floor. His body shivered and shake. “Kill them!” Seward ordered again. 

“NO.” Stanley cried. It was his battle cry as he charged the door; fleeing into the night. 

“Cas! Cas!!” Dean called, warning his angel, and hoping upon hope that Cas was still there, and was waiting.

There was a wail, and a thunderous thump. Dean called out again, “Cas??!!!” But there was a strange pain that detonated in his skull. He could see it assaulted Sam too. He tried to open his mouth to cry out, to warn the others, to swear, to do anything, except his voice came out as a gurgle as blood oozed down his throat. 

Jayna spat upon the floor, freeing her mouth from the blood; and uttered a language they hadn’t heard before. “Anall nathrach, oorfas bethud, dorhiel dienvay” she repeated it twice, each time her voice stronger. 

Roxi held her machete high in the air; but looked to her sister, who returned the glance; and their eyes in unison fell to their aunt. Blood splattered on her face, her lip swollen and bloody, bruises under her cheekbones, but her eyes as clear as the night itself. Piercing through both of them, she nodded; her hands free from the warlock’s curse, she struggled as she raised her arm mirroring Roxi’s sword’s angle. “Anall nathrach, oorfas bethud, dorhiel dienvay” The words entered Stella and Roxi’s minds simultaneously, as if being pulled out from the depths of their soul. Their voices joined with Jayna’s, “Anall nathrach, oorfas bethud, dorhiel dienvay” At first, they thought it was their aunt’s telepathy, feeding them the incantation. But more so, they knew what it meant. Breathe of serpent, spell of death and life, your song of making. Stella raised her arm too, in concert with Jayna’s and Stella’s, forming a pyramid between them, a current that resembled electricity arched itself between the three outstretched arms. 

Anall nathrach, oorfas bethud, dorhiel dienvay  
Breathe of serpent, spell of death and life, your song of making

The air between their arms, starting from the core, swirled at first like a cyclone, carrying dust with it into the spinning vortex, but the air spun into a dark fog. “Breath of the dragon” Seward exclaimed; coughing his words at first before the putrid air took control of his lungs. “I knew. He sputtered, collapsing to the ground, his words pointedly in Jayna’s direction, “I knew you were a witch.”

Jayna’s vision blurred once again. She struggled to keep her arm erect, to maintain the connection with the sisters. She heard the unmistakable sound of a Winchester slicing the air with an angel blade over and over again. The sounds of bodies against the cement floor. Of men huffing, growling, and swearing. The strong scent of blood. The ties that bond Jayna to the chair dissolved, only to reveal that they were the only things keeping her upright, she slumped over in a barely conscious state. Jayna collapsed, falling from her chair. The lids of her eyes fluttered closed, just as she recognized the sight of Sam and Dean Winchester standing over William Seward’s dead body...

The first voice to call out her name was Sam Winchester, rushing to her side, “JAYNA!!” in a rush of a mantra of her name repeated in an insistent whisper, and while cradling her face in his hands, “come on, baby... Come on open your eyes. Come on, I’m right here.” Her eyes fluttered. “That’s it Jayna, come on baby, open those beautiful eyes.” Her body twitched and quivered subtly. Finally, the spirit of Sam’s hands upon her face began to permeate into her senses, and her eyes flitted open. She searched those hazel eyes, warming her like sunflowers on a summer day, she could be lost in those eyes forever, “Sammy.” She whispered. That one word asked multitudes of questions, and spoke volumes of emotion. Relief washed over him in a tidal wave of emotion. Brusquely Sam Winchester pulled her mouth to his, kissing her with more fervor and vivacity than he had felt in such a long while. She should complain about the pressure on her split lip, but with his mouth on hers, she had nearly forgotten all about it. It was when he grasped a handful of her hair that she called out in pain. “Sorry, Sorry, Sorry.” he whispered into her lips. 

“Sam.” Dean interrupted, “we need to find the doctor.” Cas had entered the battlefield, himself battered and bleeding. Stanley had slipped away. He motioned to the empty vial that lay on the floor beside Professor Seward’s body. “And he’s all jacked up on his not-so-happy juice.” 

“Right. Right.” Sam stood up. “Stella and Roxi will take you back to the hotel.” 

“The hell we will.” Roxi spat out, “We’ve seen this creature in full on monster mode. You haven’t. Dean only saw him when he was Dr. Jekyll. He is now Mr. Hyde. And Hyde and seek is our specialty.” 

“No. no.” If Stella rolled her eyes any harder they would have fallen right out, “You did not just say that.” 

Roxi curled onto her tiptoes, wagging her eyebrows at Dean, who gave her a lackluster fist bump, “Let’s go David Caruso.” 

“I think if she is to portray David Caruso, she would need to be removing her sunglasses as she says it.” Castiel advised Roxi on her effort. Stella rolled her eyes once more. 

Sam helped Jayna up, “I’m fine.” She attested. “Fine… Please - Go.” When he hesitated, “I can make it back to the hotel, I need a nice long shower and a shot of whiskey.” 

“You might need some stitches.” He took a quick look at the wound on her head, and a slice through her bicep  
.  
“Cas will take care of it when you get back. Now go!”


	10. 10

Stella pulled Cas into her hotel room by the hand.

“Is it nap time?” He asked

“Yes. No. Maybe.” She answered somewhat inconclusively, she liked the way he was thinking, and it gave her a pause. Naptime with Castiel was one of her favorite things to do. “We need to talk.”

Cas narrowed his blue eyes at her suspicious, “Traditionally, nothing pleasant comes from that phrase. The conversations are customarily the most awkward for people. Hence they feel the need to announce it. ” She tried not to roll her eyes. He was right, of course. She sat down on her bed, facing the angel. She wished he didn’t look at her with those magnificent blue eyes, so expectantly and tolerant. 

“Castiel.” She started, taking a moment to clear her throat as it had become dry, “How does a deformed human, under the influence of a mutating drug of some sort, just slip by an angel of the lord? Slip by YOU?” She knew it was a question everyone was thinking, but no one mentioned it.  
Castiel shifted his weight from one leg to the other, “I am not perfect. Your tone implies ….”

She cut him off, “I’m not saying you are perfect, and no one expects you to be perfect – we all know that you screw up. We all screw up. But your mistakes are usually judgement calls. When you decide to do something, thinking that it is the right thing to do, but it ends up being, well, not so good.”

Cas winced, and walked to the counter on the side of the room, pouring Stella a glass of water for her dry throat, an excuse to look away from her, “Is that what you think happened?” But he was faced still with her reflection in the mirror in front of him. Her mutable eyes watching him. Trusting him. Waiting for honesty, expecting nothing less. She had pulled her hair off of her face, the highlights of blond and red catching the light. He guessed she would be dying it again soon. She really enjoyed the burgundy crimson color it was last time, and it was clearly growing out, her natural color peeking through. Her eyes were lined with black eyeliner that she identified as “on point”; he wasn’t sure what that meant, but he assumed it was good. It did bring out her eyes, in a way that made it hard to look away. She knew he was stalling.

Stella stood, and walked towards the angel, his back still to her, but he watched her reflection as she got closer, “Why don’t you tell me what happened?” 

“Doctor Stanley and I struggled.” He had poured himself water also, and sipped at it distractedly.

“Castiel.” Stella said warningly. If he had a middle or last name, she would have used it, like a reproachful parent. The closest would be “Castiel, Angel of the Lord.” But it wouldn’t have the same effect as “Roxi Guinevere DeLuci”. She paused, stared into his reflected image for a moment, admiring the way his blue eyes looked through her, without assessment, but with admiration still. 

She released her breath in a full sigh, “You let him go, didn’t you?”

Vexed, Cas had to turn away from Stella with those words. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it from any of Team Free Will for long, not the Winchesters, Jayna, Roxi, and especially Stella. He crossed her hotel room, to gaze out the window at the less than stellar view of the parking lot. He ruffled his hair. It wasn’t a natural movement for him, something left over from his human days, or something he learned from Dean Winchester; an acquired behavior. “He just wanted to run away. He didn’t want to fight me; he didn’t want to hurt anyone. He just wanted to run.”

Stella tried to reason with him, “But he’s killed a lot of people, Cas.”

He continued to look out the window, his gaze moving up to the clouds. The clouds always reminded him of Stella. The way the light played with their forms. Their mystique, their beauty. “Yes. But who am I to place judgement on that? I have killed many things too. Some things that did not deserve to die. Should I be killed too?”

“Some people have thought so.” She answered matter-of-factly. “But more so, he is going to kill more people. More people are going to get hurt by him surviving.”

“No. I don’t think so, Stella. He gave me his word. He wasn’t going to kill anyone. He doesn’t have a reason to.” He faced her again, to show the earnest in his face to her, “I believe him.” Cas battled with the guilt of the amount of beings he killed in his past. Humans, monsters, demons, angels. Most times, he believed he was just in killing them, at the time. But in hindsight he wasn’t so sure. If Doctor Stanley had attacked him; attacked any of them, he would have smite him without a second thought. But he merely tried to leave. Castiel tried to stop him, they struggled; but it was futile for Richard Stanley to attempt to overpower the angel. It was his words and his pleading that led Cas to be merciful. To let him go.

“Sam and Dean will not let him live.” She nearly whispered, not necessarily agreeing with her friend’s actions or intentions but she understood them.

Cas nodded silently, knowing this was more than just a little true. Sam and Dean would hunt him down, and kill him like the monster he is.

“Oh fuck Cas.” She muttered under her breathe, “Come here you silly Angel.” When Stella took Castiel in her arms, and enveloped him in her sympathy, kind-heartedness, and compassion, he felt the tenderness swell between them, giving him intense comfort in her arms. Her face tucked into his chest, loving the way his arms reached all the way around her, and his head leaned on the top of hers. Out of habit, a habit he hadn’t even realized he had developed, he kissed the top of her head.

Gently nudging her forehead with his chin, and then placing his forehead against hers once she tilted her head back, his voice deep in his throat, “Thank you for your concern, Stella.” She managed a smirk and a slight “humph” in response. She knew he meant more than what just the words implied, but it was in the angel’s usual uptight vernacular.

They both knew that in the next room over, Sam and Dean were gathering up their hunting gear, readying to prowl the night for Doctor Richard Stanley or whatever it was that he had become. Roxi would be pacing the room, impatiently waiting. They would expect Cas and Stella to join them. 

“What are you going to do?” Stella asked the angel, enjoying the proximity of his face to hers, losing herself in the blue and the tiny little scratches at the corners of his eyes.

“I will talk to Sam and Dean, perhaps they will understand.” He said sadly, “Perhaps…” he removed his arms from around Stella, and sauntered to the door, “if I explain it to them.” He saw Stella’s doubt all over her face, he added, “Perhaps they will give me the chance to find him myself. I am the one who let him go in any rate, so I should be the one who should bring him in.”

Stella pursed her lips tightly, chewed on the corner of her mouth, “That could actually work.”  


________________

Dean grinned teasingly, “Depends, do you have a flush or a straight?”

She would throw one of her candies at him, except then she would have even less in her bank, “Next time, we should play with real money.” She suggested, “Or Maybe Strip poker.”

Aunt Jayna groaned dramatically, and added, “NOT while I am around!” She pointed at Dean and Roxi accusatorily for effect.

“No strip poker until you are at least old enough to drink.” Dean mockingly laid down the law. Jayna rolled her eyes; she wasn’t sure about that either.

Sam closed his laptop in a bit of a huff, “Are we sure about letting Cas go after Doctor Stanley on his own?” It was obviously brewing in his brain for a while, and he finally let it out.

“No. I’m not sure. But we have to trust Cas, right? He fucked up by letting him go in the first place, and he wants to make up for it. He thinks it’s his responsibility.” Dean spoke without looking up from his cards. He had a Straight. A decent hand, overall, but if Roxi had a flush, she would, indeed, beat him. His growing pile of candy showed that he often had the advantage over the girl, but he didn’t like to lose, ever.

“Hey, Auntie. Do you think you could chill?” Roxi requested sternly. Jayna had been pacing the hotel room for the last hour of so, and it was starting to drive Roxi a little batty. She halted and glanced around the room with a little, “huh?” Roxi graced her with one of her genuine smiles that started from her mouth and brightened her whole face, “You’re pacing.”

Sam motioned for her to join him on the couch. She slumped down next to him, putting her head on his shoulder, “I didn’t even realize it.” 

Roxi put her cards face down on the table, and approached her aunt, “Are you feeling ok?” Castiel had laid his magic fingertips upon Jayna’s forehead, healing all her wounds and bruises in one simple tap. But they all knew sometimes wounds were more than just a cut or a scrape. Dean tossed his cards on the table in a childish fit, “We’re playing here ...”

Jayna shrugged, “Yeah I feel fine.” Sam gave one of his half smiles, half ponderous looks, with the pensive eye brow raise; his thumb surreptitiously caressing her arm in a comforting gesture.

Jayna sighed, “Not getting a great feeling about this.” She finally admitted. 

Sammy sat upright with a start, “Why didn’t you say something?”

Jayna covered her face with her hands out of frustration, she didn’t have an answer. Sam cast one of those brotherly intuitive looks at Dean who shoved a handful of M&Ms in his mouth, “Suit up, Sexy. We’re off like a prom dress.”

Roxi fist pumped the air, “yes!” She was a little disappointed that Stella got to go off hunting with Cas, and she was left back at the hotel, playing poker for candy.  


________________

“Professor Seward used his …”influence” over the coroner who ruled the deaths as suicides. At the time, I thought it was a mere formality – I was convinced that these people were sick, that they needed to be cured, and that they truly wanted to die. If I couldn’t cure them, then at least I could help them die.” Doctor Stanley idly scratched behind Ozzie’s ears. Cas and Stella had found him on the furthest park bench, alongside the banks of the Hooken River. The serum still coursed through Richard Stanley’s body; but he did not have the urge to hurt anyone. Stella was struggling against the feelings that being near him brought out in her. Such hatred, such yearning for violence. She felt evil. Every so often Cas would just look at her in a way that she knew he was checking in on her, and she would feel a little better. In the meanwhile, she sat, silent, listening to the monster babble on. At one point she wanted to scream at Cas, “Just kill him already!!” But she knew it was the elixir influencing her; and she would probably regret it later on.  


_____________________

“They’re talking. They’ve been talking for hours.” Stella groaned into her cell phone, and stifled a yawn. It had been one crazy hellish day, and the sun was about to come up. She might be excited to watch a glorious sunrise with Cas, but she was too tired to even think about it. Although, stepping away from Doctor Stanley did give her body a necessary dip in adrenaline which had seemed pretty high since they found him. “About everything, to life as a psychiatrist back in the day, to hiding in the basement.” She stretched her taut body to the right and the left trying to loosen up her fatigued muscles.

Before she hung up she gave exact directions to where they were so hopefully one of the Winchesters could come and relieve her from being the Angel body guard. She actually was daydreaming about falling asleep in the Impala while the others sorted out the situation when she noticed Doctor Stanley had fallen to the ground, clutching his abdomen. Glancing left and right down the pathway, she made sure there were no witness before she ran to Cas’s side, firearm pulled out in front of her. 

Cas held out his arm to her to stop before she came up upon them, “He’s having a little spasm. It will be over in a few minutes.” 

“A spasm. What kind of spasm?” She asked.

“He’s trying to fight the elixir inside himself, its tearing him apart.” Cas explained somewhat vaguely.

Stella didn’t like how that sounded in the least, “You mean he’s still under its influence?”

Cas nodded gravely. Stella felt her anger edge back up again, “And you’re just standing there talking to him like he’s not some raving mad murderer.” Cas gave her one of his pleading looks, the kind he handed out when humanity was so simple they just didn’t understand, and that pissed her off even more, “You let me stand here. ME. The very human girl. Stand here, with him, when he could go off his rocker at any point; and liquefy my brains.” 

Cas tilted his head towards her. She knew he would never let anything happen to her. But the words came out anyway, “What the fuck Castiel?!” She felt tears rise in her eyes. They were angry tears. She hated angry tears. They made her feel so vulnerable and weak. Poor little human girl who can’t even handle rage. The anger and the hate. The hate and angry bubbled up inside her, each one feeding into the other. Her hand gripped her gun tighter, but her palms were sweating, so she switched the gun from hand to hand as she wiped her hands on her jeans. 

“Give me the gun, Stella.” Castiel instructed, calmly, raising his hand palm up towards her.  
Richard Stanley sneered up at her from the ground. A proper animalistic sneer. She hoisted the gun up leveling it to aim at the Doctor’s head.

“Give me the gun, Stella.” She heard again, but this time it was a different voice. Her sister’s. Stella faltered, the gun dropping slightly with her hesitation. Cas stole it from her, handing it off to Dean Winchester who had come up upon them with Roxi and Sam in tow. Roxi swooped her arm around Stella and hugged her to her, while also pulling her away from the park bench towards the Impala.  
“Why did you stop me?” Stella whispered against her sister’s shoulder, “He has to die. Someone is going to have to kill him.” 

“It doesn’t have to be you.” Roxi consoled her sister, “Not right now, not here. There are people around. They would see you shooting a defenseless man, who is already on the ground writhing in pain.”

Stella looked back over their shoulders. It was true, there were several couples on the walking path, one set walking their dog, the other jogging. There was a student who had dropped his books just 30 feet away. How did she miss these details before, she wondered. She remembered looking before she took out her gun, just like she was always taught. But somehow she didn’t notice them. Was she that blinded by her rage? 

“That man is evil.” She whispered weakly.

“He isn’t evil.” Roxi corrected her, “The elixir is evil. It makes him do evil things. It makes him ooze evil and hatred and it’s impossible not to feel it when you are near him. Unless you are an angel, I guess. “ 

“That’s what we’ve been trying to put into words when we described him the first time we met him.” Stella hung her head, not realizing that she could actually feel more exhausted than she did minutes prior. She did. 

“Oh I said not nice things to Cas.” Stella whimpered as Roxi helped her into the back seat of the car. “I cried.” She was mortified.

“I’m sure you didn’t say anything too crazy. And you’re crying now. So what?” Roxi was intent on trying to cheer up her sister. 

Stella glanced out the Impala’s window once more before her eyes closed involuntarily, “Sam and Dean …… human too…”  


_______________

“You should go.” Castiel warned Sam and Dean. He saw how the elixir and Doctor Stanley affected Stella. He didn’t want to have to fight off Sam and Dean too.

“Look, we’ve handled enough anger and resentment our whole lives, I don’t think this guy here is going to take us down.” Dean nodded in Stanley’s direction, “But we do need to get him somewhere safe. In case he hulks out again, or just to keep him away from other people.”

“I’m beginning to understand why he kept himself hidden in that basement apartment.” Cas added, as they bundled him up under their arms and carried him to Cas’s Cadillac.


	11. 11

They had debated whether to take Doctor Richard Stanley to the hotel, and stash him in one of their rooms; or back to his own little hovel under the stairs. One had all the comforts for all of them to enjoy, the other definitive anonymity and seclusion. Even if the latter held memories of Jayna being beaten, exercising a strange spell, and killing Professor Seward, seclusion won out.

The girls rode in the Impala with Sam and Dean. Stella feeling slightly refreshed from her powernap explained to the boys how she would like to cleanse the underground apartment before they went in. She had a sage and lavender stick in her bag, and would do a routine smudging, “It should just take a few minutes.” Aunt Jayna had taught her this simple house purifying technique when she was just a teenager and she still used it whenever she moved into a new dorm or apartment. She was afraid that the vibes in the rooms were so polluted by the metaphysical battle and psychically overwhelmed by the death of the warlock; and hoped that the smudging would help dissolve some of that. She was thinking about the process, waving the burnt smoldering bundle of sage at all the corners, walls and windows. When she was finished, and if some of the sage stick still remained, she would try to cut the smoke in her hand, and wave it all over her body, and then the others; just to be safe. She stared out the window lost in that thought when Dean called out, “What the fuck is Cas doing? He’s driving like a maniac”

They were following behind Cas’s Cadillac, where Cas was driving with Doctor Richard Stanley. But the gold car jogged to the right and left in a jagged manner. “Something’s not right.” Sam concluded an edge of distress in his voice. Dean immediately pushed the accelerator to the floor and tried to pull up alongside Cas’s car, but Cas whipped back and forth again, making passing him, or even flanking him impossible. Just when Dean was about to try again, the passenger door of the Cadillac flew open, and a distortion of Richard Stanley’s body rolled onto the payment, scrambling to his feet.

“We got a runner.” Dean yelped, slamming on the breaks as to not hit Cas, who had also braked hard, and was running after the Doctor.

“What happened?” Sam called out to Cas as they fell in line to chase the man.

Cas’s trench coat flickered behind him, he tried to explain as they ran, “He started to …. Attack me while I was driving. I tried to shield myself, but was not conducive to defending myself at the same time.”

Dean gained on Stanley quickly whose legs were malformed due to the mutating elixir. Stanley growled back towards the Winchester; his face distorted not unlike a rabid dog; whereas phlegm even splattered back towards Dean. “That’s just nasty.” Dean winced trying not to get spat upon.  
Resonant of their track training from their younger years, Stella and Roxi sprang forth in the chase. They had gotten familiar with the Ohio University Campus, and were able to take a corner route that would cross Stanley’s path, cutting him off. Scurrying between buildings, they heard the oncoming pounding of Stanley’s feet. And Dean, Cas and Sam. Instinctively, both girls pulled their weapons.

Richard Stanley, or what used to be Richard Stanley, stopped short in front of the girls. Stella aimed directly for his head, “Don’t move.” She just wanted the creature to stop long enough for Sam, Dean and Cas to catch up.

Stanley sneered, his eyes unfocused and the pupils dilated to their fullest. “NO.” He literally spat, frantically searching for an escape or a weapon. Roxi did not have the same patience as Stella, she vaulted forward, her machete slicing through a meaty portion of his thigh as he pounced towards her in the rush. His screams embodied his pain. Roxi rounded her body, not needing time to recover, spinning to swipe at him again. This time she caught his arm. The man – could you still call him a man? – swore in a way that they couldn’t quite understand the words. There was a beat. Enough time for their hearts to beat once in unison, the sisters made eye contact, and nodded to each other. 

“Just kill me.” Stanley screamed. “Just do it.”

The hair on Stella’s neck rose at his request. “Oh fuck.” KILL ME.

Even Roxi faltered. The sound of oncoming Team Free Will ceased suddenly, as the men stood, armed at the back of Richard Stanley as he faced the end of Stella DeLuci’s gun. Stella cocked her gun, pulling back the release, her heart hammering in her throat. KILL ME.

The shot blared through the air, hitting its mark squarely in the back of the head, and then another in the neck. The brain was compromised, and the spine severed with the two shots. Dean Winchester lowered his gun. The body crumpled to the ground, the blood spilling from it its lifeless form. Sam kicked the foot. There was no reaction. He pulled the trigger on his gun twice; two shots additional shots to the heat for good measure.

They didn’t get to see Stella fall to her knees, as Cas was there to catch her. “I could have done it. I would have done it.” She swore, angry tears rimming her eyes.

Castiel pulled her to him, forcing her face into his chest, “Yes.” he said, “I know.”


	12. 12

Well rested after passing out the night before, each of them refreshed in their own way. The Hotel beds, showers, mini-fridge, gym and room service all got put to good use.

The pages of the Treatsye of Incantations flipped easily through Sam’s fingers, a glass with a fingers width of liquor was within reach, “this will be a good addition to the library at the bunker.”

“Youre going to steal the book from the library?” Roxi partially accused, running her fingers through her wet curls, fresh from a shower. The book belonged to the library, even if they had borrowed it for a little bit. 

Dean’s guns lay in front of him, going through the process of being thoroughly stripped, cleaned and reloaded, “We can’t risk it getting in .. well .. anyone’s hands.”

Jayna was exhausted, and sat nursing her glass of whiskey curled up under one of the hotel’s blankets. 

“That was a pretty intense spell.” Sam called over his shoulder, “How did you know it?” 

Jayna swirled her beverage in the glass, watching the caramel color liquid rise and fall over the smooth glass. “Just an incantation. Read it in the book.” 

“He let you at the book?” Dean asked looking up from his guns.

“No, I read it. Kinda from his head, I guess.” Jayna shrugged. She wasn’t exactly sure how it worked or why.

“Well.” Sam sat back, and sighed, “Its an ancient gaelic spell. dates back to Morgan LaFey.” 

“Morgana?” Jayna laughed out loud. Morgan. Morgana. Fata Morgana. She went by many names. 

“Jayna …” Sam brought the book over to her bedside, opening it up for her to see, “Not many people have success with the spell. In fact, it only works for descendents of Morgana LaFey.” Jayna laughed again, mid sip of her whiskey.

“Who’s Morgana LaFey?” Roxi asked searching mindlessly through the hotel room’s cable guide for something to watch. 

“She was a powerful enchantress in Medieval Times.” Castiel summed up appropriately.

“Some lore name her as King Arthur’s sister; but also the reason for his downfall” Sam added, pulling his hair back behind his ears.

Jayna smirked somewhat sarcastically at the Winchester, she had an entirely different opinion of Morgana LaFey, “She apprenticed under Merlin, and some believe that she was a healer or a goddess in human form. Really depends on what you are reading.” 

Sam continued, picking the neutral route, “There are tons of lore on Morgana, put it that way. But the spell - incantation, (whatever) is the called the Spell or Charm of Making. It creates that cyclone, that fog, to confuse people. It has an intoxicating effect, and often times you can deceive the person beneath that cloud, and they never know any different.” 

Jayna snuffed outloud, she had read things about the Charm of Making: being used to seduce people, making them think the spellcaster or someone else was actually their betrothed; to alter perception to win battles; to change the course of weather to assist in travels. Back in the day, it was believed that it was calling upon the breath of a dragon, and it was its breathe that did these things. “Interesting.”

Sam squinted slightly, thinking that Jayna wasn’t grasping the whole concept. He stared at the pages of the book one more time, fiddling with the edge of the page.

Stella stared from the book then to her aunt, the book didn’t vibrate anymore now that Professor Seward’s protection spell was lifted, “Wait - wait a minute. You’re saying Jayna is a descendant from Morgana LaFey, this super cool seductress slash goddess?” 

“For the spell to have worked, she’s got to be.” Sam said almost softly as if he were breaking bad news, placing his hand on her thigh. The idea seeped into Jayna’s mind slowly. 

“Direct blood line, actually.” Castiel said poignantly, as if he sensed this all along. 

Stella could see Jayna was processing this theory, the wheels in her brain spinning from one link to another. When her aunt finally looked up to her, and her sister, the thought came to Stella too, “If she is … then …. so are we.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note from the Author:
> 
> Many thanks to Robert Louis Stevenson’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde for inspiring this piece. If you haven’t read it yet - you really should. It is very good (and short)
> 
> Some of the research that was done for this piece, in particular the parts about the Athens Lunatic Asylum, the Ridges, and converting to parts of Ohio University, was all found on the internet. Google was my best friend. When Roxi sited Wikipedia, I meant it!! You can even find the photos referenced on the internet too - good luck trying to read the names, I just made them up. (I named William Seward after a bunch of my relatives, mostly distant relatives. There are alot of William Sewards out there - this is not based on any of them, I just wanted to use the name)
> 
> Nettle Cinnamon Rose Hip infusion tea really is high in vitamins C,K, iron, and good for general protection (both the nettle & cinnamon).
> 
> the Charm of Making “Anall nathrach, oorfas bethud, dorhiel dienvay” comes from the movie Excalibur. Really good movie. You should see it. Its a romantic King Arthur tale. Round table, Arthur, Lancelot, Merlin, Excalibur, magic, all of it! And a sweet new agey soundtrack to boot! Morgana LeFay is portrayed as a wicked evil witch (booo!), but is played by a young Helen Mirren!!! She rocks it!


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